


The Place Where the Light Enters

by boomerbird10



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomerbird10/pseuds/boomerbird10
Summary: {He stupidly tries to sit up only to find his body weighs a ton. Groans- it's these meds they've got him on. It's not particularly bright, he notes, he just has oversensitive eyes. And then it hits him: "I'm alive."} Alec Hardy, 44, post-op for pacemaker insertion, complete with a long history of severe arrhythmia... He's a detective in great need of some healing.





	1. Chapter 1

"The wound is the place where the Light enters you."

-Jalaluddin Rumi

* * *

It's only 15 minutes before the end of her shift that Laurel gets a new patient. A quick scan of the chart tells her that it's Alec Hardy, 44, post-op for pacemaker insertion, complete with a long history of severe arrhythmia. At this stage, it's a dangerous surgery but the condition can be fatal without it. Laurel is about to put the chart away and take new vitals when she realizes that he hasn't got a family to update, and that section of the chart is blank.

Her heart clenches as she watches him sleep and she has to fight to stay in the moment. He's not a John Doe, but he's alone, and- she shakes herself and finishes the new patient input forms for her floor. By the time she's done, her shift is past over and her coworker, Sarah, pops her head in to relieve Laurel.

Instead of going home, Laurel sits down in the visitor's chair next to the bed and waits. No one should be alone, not through something like this.

* * *

It's... bright. Really bright. Very white, very clean.

Hospital.

It's got to be, and it's a familiar one, too. It's got that smell. But what's happening here, did he...? Was this another heart attack, or - did he just pass out again? Where's Miller-?

He stupidly tries to sit up only to find his body weighs a _ton_. _Groan_ \- it's these meds they've got him on. And it's not particularly bright, he notes, just oversensitive eyes. And then it hits him:

"I'm alive."

It only comes out in a weak, croaky whisper, but _he's alive_! He even breaks out bleak little smile for this one, lying there and feeling himself breathe and think and exist. Not til he opens his eyes again does he notice a figure there. Someone waiting. He turns a little towards her, clears his throat.

"How much longer 'til I can leave?"

Laurel has been sitting there for- oh, an hour? she's lost count- when the man on the bed quite suddenly springs to life. At first, it's just mumbling, but- "whoa!" she cries, pushing lightly on his shoulders to keep him from sitting up.

"Yeah, you're alive." She's only just caught what he said at first, though it clearly wasn't addressed to her… She gives him a smile, still tinged with concern. "Think it'll be at least a few days yet, though you'll have to ask the doctor for sure. Wouldn't be in too much of a rush, if I were you. You'll likely be feeling that surgery you just had, and all the good drugs are here."

"How're you feeling? If you'd like, I can call up your nurse."

"A few _days_? -No, no no, don't call the nurse... " He's very eager to get moving- there was something he had to do, something urgent. He can't wait _a few days_... this is his second chance. He's going to use it.

But - maybe just rest a bit first. His head feels like lead, and he winces.

"M'fine. No- I'm brilliant, this is..."

Laurel has half moved to call Sarah back in, but she stops when he tells her to. "Glad you're feeling alright," she says with a bigger smile. "Please don't be afraid to tell someone if you start to feel worse, though. It's best to get ahead of these things."

He squints at her. Can't remember meeting her, let alone her name, if she's got one.

"Who are you again?"

Laurel's pleased to see him so clearly alive and functioning. It feels like a victory, like she's pulled him through by sitting here- stupid, for sure, but after everything that's happened, it makes her feel better.

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Hardy! I'm Laurel. Should have introduced myself."

Ugh, _God_ , she's chatty. Hardy turns back to stare at the ceiling a moment before squeezing his eyes shut. They're heavy anyway, can barely keep them open. They're so full of this sort of talk at this place, and something about it has always struck him as a little forced.

"...Laurel. Just Laurel?" His voice sounds gritty and tired. Maybe he can go back to sleep soon. "That's a first name, isn't it?"

She laughs. "Yes, that's just the first. I've got three, if you're interested. But the last one is Darvill. Laurel Darvill. 'M afraid I already know your name from the chart, sorry for the advance knowledge here."

She can see him winding back down- typical behavior, really, to come and go from sleep for several hours after anesthesia- and leans back slightly.

"Mm." Acknowledgement, dismissive. Seriously, she's just _got_ to load on the extra details, doesn't she? "Married? _Mrs._ Darvill. What am I supposed to call you?" Honestly, don't these people do proper names? This bloody town. He's a bit too cheerful about _being alive_ to be truly bothered, though, in all honesty. She's just trying to help. Maybe she's an intern.

"Oh, no, not married," Laurel answers lightly. She's not going to get into why. She's starting to think he doesn't have any interest in having her here at all, anyway, and maybe she was wrong to stay. "Just call me Laurel. Everyone does."

Mouth slightly open, he's about to thank her for whatever it is he's assuming she probably did to help, thereby hopefully prompting her out of the room- but. He lets it close again.

Laurel clears her throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I'll leave you be if you'd like to sleep. I can even go, if you'd like. I just noticed that you didn't have any family and thought- someone should be here when you woke up." Or if he didn't.

"My family… Yeah, they're not here, not in Broadchurch," he says after a painful minute. Not a lie, but they don't know he's chosen to submit himself for potentially fatal surgery, either. They don't need to know. Nobody does. He survived, after all... There was no need to put them through it, too.

She reaches out to gently pat the hand that doesn't have an IV; he only looks mildly up at her. "I understand. My family isn't here, either." She thinks her family would probably- no, definitely- come out if she was having potentially fatal heart surgery, but she won't question and she won't judge, it's not her business. "I'm sure they'll be glad to know you're alright, though. I know I'd be worried." She chuckles at herself. "I _have_ been worried and we hadn't even properly met. Anyway, sorry, I'm sure you'd like me to go so you can get back to sleep. Don't feel obligated to entertain me."

"Laurel..." he tries for a minute. Allows a small silence to fill between them while he thinks of possibly something nice to say, until he sighs faintly and closes his eyes again.

Tess'll be disappointed.

Daisy'll chew him out for not telling her. So will Miller.

Ahh, but they'll get over it. Ellie'll say he's done something right for a change, in the end.

"Mhm. Thanks, Darvill."

Laurel chuckles. "Laurel," she corrects, but she stands up and leaves it at that. He's clearly uncomfortable with her presence.

"Feel better," she says softly, glancing over his thin, haggard form. "Don't forget to call the nurse if you feel badly. I'll let you sleep." She wishes he still had someone to stay, but she's not doing him much good here and the last thing he needs when he's healing is to feel awkward around a stranger.

"Best of luck, Mr. Hardy." One last soft smile and she leaves.

Ugh. He swallows something unpleasant, shakes his head a little, slow and behind on the conversation. "No, can't call y'that..." he mutters, but he's already partially asleep again.

He doesn't hear her leave.

* * *

Laurel has a bright smile on her face when she walks into Alec Hardy's room at the beginning of her shift a couple of days later. "You're still here, then?" she asks with a little wave. "Hope you're on the mend some. Mind if I take a few vitals, love?"

She gets a brief half-smile. "Still here," he agrees- though the question was rhetorical- and pushes himself up to rest back against the headboard. It takes a little effort, but he's watching her now, compliant. She's right, he _is_ feeling a little better. Check away, he seems to say.

"Thanks!" Laurel says, taking her stethoscope off of her neck and putting it in her ears. She listens to his heart and breath sounds, takes his pulse and his temperature, assesses his pain levels, a quick test of fine motor skills, and she's done. "Looks like you're doing pretty well to be two days post-op. How's your heart feeling, Mr. Hardy?"

"Mm." He hums a little and settles back again. Standard checks. They're quick. "Fine," he replies lightly. "It's fine. Seems to be workin' at any rate. Thanks."

It might be fine enough that he can leave _tomorrow_... Still imagines he might be a little weak in the knees.

But it's right at this moment that he thinks his heart might have stopped again: Ellie Miller bursts through the door amidst a small tornado of colorful names for him. She marches straight up to the foot of his bed, pointing an accusatory finger, "YOU WANKER! YOU HAD SURGERY AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN RING ME? IF YOU'D DIED ON ME I WOULD HAVE DESECRATED YOUR GRAVE- _SIR_."

Laurel can't quite help it- she scuttles back at the explosion of noise, away from the short, _very_ angry woman. She makes herself scarce- to be honest, this is what she does best- and listens in. So, Hardy does have a family that's at least close enough to drive over, he just hasn't told them what's going on.

It's a glad sight for Laurel, who has been very concerned about him. Everything about him says he's completely exasperated to have to be here, probably won't follow doctor's orders, might even leave against medical advice.

Hardy's hardcore trying to get a word in with Miller over her yelling, "Mill- Miller - no, Miller, listen- _Ellie_ , please-" but she's not having a _word_ of it. Her rant ends with a bag of grapes ( _definitely_ seeded, this time) dropped at the foot of his bed and a glower that rips past his exasperation.

As much as the woman's appearance is a relief to Laurel, her patient _did_ just have major heart surgery, and she can't just stand by and allow him to be doubly stressed, so after as soon as she recovers herself, she steps in. Besides, she thinks she and the newcomer might have something to talk about. "Ma'am, might I have a word with you out in the hall for a moment?"

She gives a side glance to the patient as she replaces her stethoscope on her neck. "And you, Mr. Hardy, I would be grateful if you could stay put."

He's got to admit it, he's a little grateful for Darvill's intervention. Ellie shoots him one last look and nods to Laurel, her voice shaky and tears prickling her eyes (which she angrily wipes away). "Tell me he called _someone_ ," she pleads, but she mainly sniffs it at Hardy like a warning shot.

" _Shit_ ," Hardy groans to himself as they clear out, sinking lower into the bed. She's going to be the death of him if she doesn't shock his heart out, first.

Laurel has to stifle a laugh at the overly aggressive grape-gifting as she leads the way out into the hall, glancing back at Hardy before she goes. Now that it's one-on-one again, she's a little less uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Ellie, was it? Ellie Miller?" She thinks that's what she's caught from Hardy trying to interrupt. "I'm Laurel, Laurel Darvill, his nurse."

Ellie's still glowering, but drops her gaze. "Sorry. Sorry about in there, I just- yes." She looks up, trembly but swallowing it back. She's gotten better at this. "Ellie Miller. Lovely to meet you, Laurel..." She offers an attempt at a genuine smile, but her anger's quickly dissolving into a breakdown now that she's left the room. "Thanks- thanks for - helping," she manages. " _God_ , I really hate him sometimes."

Now that Ellie isn't so aggressive, Laurel feels like she can relax a bit. "To be entirely honest with you, Ms. Miller, he seems as if he needed to hear it." She gives the other woman a shy smile of tentative camaraderie. "I was just concerned about his heart, love." She places a comforting hand on Ellie's shoulder.

"O h, I know..." Ellie concedes softly. Her voice is broken and cracked, and she's definitely struggling to gulp back tears now. Laurel's right, and Ellie feels a surge of gratitude for a compassionate presence. Seems so hard to find, these days. "He's such an _idiot_..."

"But also, I wanted to talk to you a bit without him hearing," Laurel continues after a tiny grin at this assessment. "He, um, he _didn't_ call anyone, and it's worrying me for a couple of reasons. To start with, he's just been through a traumatic and very dangerous surgery. He may not realize it, but he'll need emotional support as much as anything else."

Ellie blanches a little, her fears confirmed. " _Christ_. No one?" Of course, she'd honestly hoped he'd feel compelled to call her about something like this at the very least if he called anyone - they'd been working together all week! And then he's gone and done this and - _nothing_! She'd been trying to reach him for two days! She's got to close her eyes briefly to reign in her anger again, and take a few deep breaths.

Laurel looks away, slightly embarrassed because she doesn't much like speaking so candidly with a stranger. "I was here the day he had his operation, and I sat with him a few hours past the end of my shift so he wouldn't wake up alone, _because_ he had no one waiting on him." She shakes herself- he's not _Ben_. He's not dying alone.

Ellie nods, and forcibly wipes her eyes again. "Thank you," she says, and forces a grim smile. "Thanks for staying with him... I - _should've_ been here. I would've... I'd hoped he'd let his _daughter_ know, for god's sake, but..." Her heart is hurting. What's new?

Laurel listens to Ellie speak and nods encouragingly. "Of course. My f- erm, let's just say I know how you feel. And no one should be alone through something like this." She pauses and sighs. "Anyway, patients like him- stubbornly self-reliant- can have bad outcomes if they don't- well, it would be best if there's someone around once he leaves to keep an eye on him." She looks at Ellie anxiously, hoping she's not overstepping a line here but wanting to do right by her patient.

Ellie swallows thickly again. "I won't let him out of my sight once he's out," she promises. "How much longer's he got…?"

"Thanks for keeping him under surveillance. He'll likely be here for two or three more days." Laurel gives a slightly wry smile. "Do you happen to have his daughter's contact information? Legally, I can't disclose anything over the phone without his permission... But if you talk to him, you can get word to her."

Ellie lets her gaze fall, almost guiltily, and sniffles. She nods. "It's on his mobile... He's not as clever with his passwords as he ought to be. I'll call her if he doesn't..."

Laurel hesitates before digging in her pocket for a second and pulling out a pen and a notepad. Scribbling on the top page, she rips it off and hands it to Ellie. "I, um, I saw his address on his chart and it's only a few streets down from my house. Here's my number. Call me if you have a problem or he does something stupid, okay? I can be there in two minutes. Day or night." She can't stop thinking about Ben and it makes her offer despite her shyness.

Ellie looks up, a little surprised by the offer... but touched. Oh god, she's tearing up again, she's really got to pull herself together before she goes back in to see Hardy. She tries to get her throat to work, but it simply refuses, so she nods quickly instead and sniffs again.

Laurel smiles encouragingly and wavers for a moment. "I don't mean to overstep here, but do you need a hug? It seems like you could use one."

Ellie is certain she can't accept a stranger's hug right now, but everything is falling apart. This younger woman right now seems like the sanest voice in the world, and she can't help it - she _needs_ something grounding right now, to let herself be vulnerable because she just _can't do this_...

So she laughs a little watery laugh instead and wipes her eyes again, holding gently onto this nurse somewhat like a scared child hugging a parent.

Laurel gives a soft chuckle and steps forward to wrap her arms around the older woman in a firm hug. "He's fine," she says gently. "He's been through a lot but he's fine. And he'll stay that way." Firmly. She means it.

"Oh, he'd _better_ be." Ellie's voice is muffled and crackling on Laurel's shoulder, but likewise defiant. "He's going to _hear_ from me if he's not." She's ready to cry all over again, and she allows herself another few seconds of it before she manages, "Thank you Laurel... I'm sorry, your shoulder's going to - gonna be all wet…"

Laurel throws her head back and laughs in surprised delight at Ellie's apology; the laugh is infectious enough to pull a smile out of Ellie Miller, and she rubs away the last of her tears out of her eyes.. "I'm a nurse, love," Laurel murmurs. "It's a _good_ day if the worst thing I've got on me is tears. You're fine, I offered. You know, you don't have to wait for an emergency to call me. I'm a good listener, too." She runs her hand down Ellie's arm until she can grab her hand and squeeze it.

Ellie, grateful, squeezes back before letting go of the nurse entirely… Nods, trying to find the words. "Thank you... You're very kind, Laurel. And… I'll keep that in mind." She's suddenly a little shy at the idea of confiding in someone so much younger, but the offer is much needed. Just someone to talk to. Someone besides the therapists and Hardy.

"Shall we go see if the patient has managed to get into any trouble in our absence?" Laurel suggests.

* * *

Over in his room, Hardy's been listening to the muffled voices just outside his door, " _shit, shit_..." Running a hand over his face as he tries to think of what to say to Miller. Oh, she'll never try to understand - he'd known he was setting himself up for this (judging from his last several episodes and her bedside manners) - but he'd had to bet on the chance that he'd either not live to see it, or find himself lucky enough to avoid her detection. He really shouldn't have been kidding himself. Now all he can do is wait and hope and - well, pray, maybe, that Miller will come back to see him and accept his apology and explanation. What else can he do, aside from choke on grape seeds?

He looks up when Miller and Darvill come back in, and he locks eyes with Miller. Shit.

Laurel glances at him and heads to her computer to open his chart, feeling the need to update him with Ellie standing there in case he tries to keep things from her.

"Well, Mr. Hardy, your surgery two days ago to implant a pacemaker has successfully regulated your heart rate to fix your arrhythmia, but you still need to stay with us for several more days and regulate your activity levels until we're sure you're adjusting correctly." She's sure they know exactly what she's doing, but before Ellie lays into him again, it might help for her to know the gist of what's going on here.

Then she very conspicuously start typing in a show of privacy. She really _does_ have things she has to do on his chart or she'd leave them to it entirely. The best she can do is try not to listen.

Hardy swallows and straightens again and starts, damn it, "Ellie—" He's eager avoid having anything else in addition to grapes thrown at him.

"—Don't call me Ellie," Miller snaps, but it's quiet. She can't trust him with his own life, right now. And she's far from forgiving him. Even so, her anger has quelled to a dull roar in the back of her mind.

Hardy glances uncomfortably between Miller and the nurse. He's certain Darvill did that on purpose.

"Hear that, you knob?" Ellie asks him, her thoughts traveling in the same direction, and pulls up a chair. She plops heavily into it and fixes him with her now well-used glare.

" _Ellie_ —" he tries again.

"— _Several more days_. You're not going anywhere 'till I say so."

Hardy closes his eyes for a moment to collect himself. If he's not careful, he might just have to listen.

"Ellie, listen. I'm sorry." He's not looking at her. "I - should have called you."

"Yeah. Thought you were bloody well _dead_ , sir; the hell am I supposed to do with that? …You didn't even call _Daisy_. Tess?"

"Oh, for god's sake, _Miller_ , please don't—"

"—What if you'd died. What then?" Her voice eases when he returns to her last name.

"Miller."

"You just expect me to what— bury you up on the hill? You think I have the funds for that?"

"Miller, please."

"No, _sir_ , just shut up a minute with the 'Miller, Miller', won't you? Listen: Don't you ever — don't you— " She's trying to be stern with him, but she's wavering again. _Goddammit_. She told herself she wouldn't yell. Wouldn't cry. "You - do this to me one more time, I will kill you _myself_ , sir - and if that's not enough of a threat, well - - _tough_. You _don't_ get to treat me this way."

She looks like she's expecting an answer, but she's just told him to shut up. "…Sorry. Miller." Honestly, is she done yet?

"Call Daisy. Do it, now. I'm not forgiving you until I see you dial that number, right now. Laurel—" Ellie's voice is evening out, and she looks up at the nurse. "He can make a call, can't he? That won't mess with the… pacemaker, will it? Sir, where's your mobile…?"

Laurel's trying not to eavesdrop, but it's hard to avoid when they're being loud— okay, Miller is— and she's still in the room. Still, she's focusing on her charting and attempting to tune out the voices until she hears a question directed at her. "Oh, yes, of course, he's fine to make as many calls as he'd like." Or not like, as the case may be, but it would take a stronger person than Laurel to stand up to the angry Ellie and she suspects that Hardy won't try it, either.

She wonders at the relationship between the two of them. Ellie calls him sir over and over again, but Laurel can see plain as day that they care about one another.

Ellie's brought out Hardy's phone and flatly hands it over. "See? There we are, then. Call her. She deserves to know, she's your _daughter_." She retreats and watches impatiently, arms crossed, expectant.

"Miller…" But Hardy sighs, seeing no way out of this. "Fine… fine…"

He dials the number. Beep. It's gone to voicemail. That's to be expected, and Miller knows this.

He waffles for a second, unsure about how to start.

"…Hi, darling, it's me. Dad."

A pause. Miller's practically nudging him with her eyes.

"I… haven't heard from you in a while and - I thought I'd call. Wanted to let you know I've been in the hospital a few days but everything's fine. Nothin' to worry about."

Miller's brows arch.

"…They've put a pacemaker in me, so… yeah. No more broken heart."

Another pause.

"Talk to you later. Call me - when you get the chance. Love you… Alright. Bye."

The call ends with a small snap, and he hands the phone back over to Miller. He's shaking his head like this was a bad idea and casting about for some words. "I - Miller, she- — she didn't need to worry, I was going to call her afterwards, as it was; really, I was. And you."

Miller seems pleased enough for now. "That's nice, sir, but now it's done with. Poor Laurel's had to listen to all of this." She sighs, her eyes falling briefly to the sad lump of grapes still resting on the blankets.

"…I'll check on you tomorrow, all right?" she starts again, but it's much more gentle now.

"Fine. Just don't bring me any more grapes, thanks."

Laurel once again tries to fade to the background, and once she hears her name again and the conversation seems to draw to a close, she gives the pair a small smile. "So, you're off, then, Ellie? Just remember what I said."

Ellie gives Laurel a warm smile as she pauses to pull on her coat. "I'm off," she nods. Her voice has returned to its normal softness. "Thank you so much, Laurel. I'll be in touch—" She glanced at Hardy. "Soon, I'm sure. Thank you."

She goes. Laurel waves goodbye and turns back to Hardy.

He groans and sinks back into bed again, tugging the blankets up to his chin. "Sorry. She's a bit… well… Sorry you had to see that."

He's her only patient at the moment, so she goes to sit next to him, already ready to get off her feet for a few minutes even though she's not far into her shift. She shrugs in response to Hardy's words, and a small smile plays at the corners of her lips. "In my family, at least, volume is a sign of caring. She wouldn't yell at you if you didn't mean a lot to her. Wouldn't be worth the emotion, otherwise."

"Mm… s'pose so." It doesn't sound like it's a revelation. But he's got just the tiniest, quickest of smiles. "When I first met her, never'd've guessed she could be so _loud_ , though…"

Then again, she's a mother of two. It _does_ fall into place. At any rate, Darvill's words are a kindness.

Laurel chuckles. "Never trust quiet to stay quiet. Push anyone the wrong way and you'll find yourself with an earful." She remembers her mother telling her oldest brother that once after Laurel got angry enough to yell at him. She hasn't seen him so shell shocked since.

"Mm." Sometimes she sounds straight out of a greeting card. Keeps making him smile a little, anyway.

Laurel thinks he looks haggard, worn. Maybe from the surgery, maybe not. "Say, love, do you like to read? Or write or draw or anything like that?" Feeling as if he'll scoff at her suggestion, she follows it up quickly with an explanation. "You just seem antsy to leave. Might help if you had something to take your mind off of being here."

He's fallen into silence, resting. Only looks up when she speaks again. "Oh… not really. I mean - I read, yes." He shifts a little. "Dunno if I can keep my eyes open long enough, though, quite frankly." And looking through glasses right now sounds particularly unappealing.

"Okay. Well, that'll probably improve as you move out from the surgery and your body gets used to the pacemaker. I'm sure I can track down something for you to read. People leave them here sometimes, so we've got a shelf somewhere to store them."

"Well… Don't bother too much over it." _Thank you_ , is what he means. Her generosity _is_ welcome, even if he's apparently adamant about not accepting it. He's leaving tomorrow anyway...

She's not wrong. He _is_ antsy to leave. Claire. She's vulnerable right now. _He's_ out there, Hardy's seen him several times, now. Knows where he is, or - has an idea. Not to mention, new leads. He's got every reason to be antsy. And Miller's on her own right now, too, with Fred and no one else. It's all keeping him up, no matter how heavy his eyes still feel. And that's not even to mention the trial.

Laurel's not done. "Or- if you find yourself feeling particularly restless or anxious, I could read to you. Easier on the eyes than reading yourself, of course, and sometimes it's nice to just listen to the rhythm of someone else's voice. It's soothing. Just something to think about." She grins. "'s not like I have much else going on right now. You're my only patient." Her expression is cheerful, trying to make him feel comforted but not like she's pushing anything on him. He's very free to talk with her or go to sleep or take her up on her offer, whatever he'd like.

"Well..." He's not been read to since... uh. Well. When _was_ he last read to? Probably Daisy, learning to read. And before that... hard to say. Had his parents ever read to him...?

Weirdly, he wants to say yes. But he knows he won't.

"I'll, er- keep that in mind. Thanks." He might be grateful for it later, if he honest-to-god cannot fall asleep in spite of his exhaustion.

The company for now is just fine.

Laurel nods companionably. "Well, if you decide to take me up on it, we've got quite the variety, love. People have left everything from Harry Potter to Stephen King and a lot of nonfiction, as well. If you've got a favorite, I might be able to find it."

Hardy nods casts about a bit for some other distraction… He finally settles on more conversation, which feels a little odd. "…Large family? Yours, I mean. Are you local?"

Laurel thinks he still seems preoccupied, but this time, it's almost brooding rather than thinly veiled impatience. She decides that maybe she shouldn't leave him alone right now and accepts the abrupt change of topic.

" _Oh, yes_ ," she answers, soft and with great feeling. "Two parents, six siblings, all of them still in Bournemouth but me. Add in a collection of spouses and kids and you've got a large family for sure. And yourself? You've got a daughter, I hear? And Ellie?" Her voice is light, conversational, giving him an out in case he doesn't want to talk about them. He does seem the type to clam up, but given what she's overheard, she's a little sad over what seems to be a bit of a broken relationship with the girl who didn't answer the phone.

He clearly loves her very much, though, and suddenly Laurel misses her own dad. Her family might annoy her, smother her, not quite understand her fully, but she'd be lost without them... she feels a surge of compassion. Hardy must have a difficult life even when he's _not_  having surgery on his heart.

Hardy slides his eyes closed, though he focuses on her voice. Quite a large family, indeed. Bournemouth. He's not keen on answering questions just now, but he supposes he did just ask something personal. Ugh.

He fights with the silence a moment, perhaps a little too long. He could probably get away with simply not answering at this point, but he finds himself responding.

"…Yeah. Fifteen. Lives with her mother. And Miller— she's a, uh - she's a colleague. Local, obviously, but I'm not."

"She sounds like a lovely girl. I'm sure you miss her." She leaves it at that. Her tone is warm, not pushy, not asking questions that he doesn't seem to want to answer; she knows the feeling. "I think I quite like Miller, too. She seems very strong. I wouldn't want to mess with her." She means it... Despite Ellie's tears, the woman seems to possess an ironclad will that Laurel admires and will never have.

Hardy says nothing about Daisy. Yes. Yes, he does miss her. Terribly. Thinks about her every single day. Aches to be part of a whole again. Remembers that it'll never, ever happen. Tries weakly not to think about Tess. Rinse and repeat.

"Yeah... Miller is… she's good. She's a good person. Good detective, too, but she was never meant to be that hard."

She settles back in her chair as he talks about Ellie. "Mm, I can see that. I don't know what made her hard, but she's made of something fierce. Don't have to do anything more but look at her to know that. She'll get through whatever it is and remember who she is. Reminds me of my mum, a bit, she does, let me tell you, Mr. Hardy. That woman is a force of nature but I've never seen anyone more compassionate to anyone with a scraped knee or a lost puppy. A strong woman but a kind one."

"Heh. I can imagine."

He finds himself _almost_ appreciating her chattiness, now, her generosity, content just to listen and allow his tired mind to linger on other things. Books. Ellie. Her family. Maybe he will take her up on that reading offer, after all... Her voice is soft and easy; just the sound of it - the sort of bedside manners a nurse ought to have. Patient. Forgiving.

"Ahh, she's a mother, too, Miller. Two sons." He looks up and offers Laurel the sliver of a smile. "Maybe it's the strongest forces of nature that're the kindest."

Laurel can definitely see Ellie as a mother. She's got that air to her. She takes his minuscule smile and returns it with ten times the wattage, pleased to have gotten a positive reaction from him. He's a bit of a grumpy bloke, and while it doesn't bother her, she thinks that some smiles would be of great benefit to him. "Yeah," she agrees softly. "You might be right."

His eyes fall closed again and he listens to a small silence. Drowsiness is quickly overcoming him - maybe her words really are working.

"You know, I actually... _could_ you read? An'thin', I don't care what it is…"

She hops up immediately at his question. "Of course!" she chirps quietly but exuberantly. "Be right back." It's the work of two minutes to run to the bookshelf in the nurse's lounge and grab a novel. After a second of deliberation, she settles on Harry Potter. Why not? She brings it back and sits down next to him again. "I've brought some magic for you." Her smile is gentle now. He needs some magic in his life, she thinks.

He had a feeling she might take to the reading idea. Gives her something to do, something to help with. And honesty - he's not sure if it's the drugs or the tiredness or the dull, aching nameless feeling in his chest, but- he doesn't particularly feel up to being alone, right now. Daisy still hasn't called back.

He frowns a little. Pulls himself out from the drowsiness for a moment to look at her again. " _Magic_ -? Oh-"

Harry Potter. Should've known.

He settles back, a little amused.

Laurel grins and starts reading about Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number Four Privet Drive. She can tell he'll be asleep sooner rather than later, so she makes her voice low enough that while he can hear her words, they won't be a barrier to him falling asleep. It's nice, somehow, sitting here doing this. She's glad the floor is dead. This is why she became a nurse- to help people- and oddly enough, she feels as if this simple act is making a difference.

Hardy's asleep before the end of chapter one.


	2. Chapter 2

Laurel's doing laundry on her day off when an unfamiliar number rings, and she cautiously picks it up. "Erm, hello?"

"-Laurel? It's Ellie." She sounds worn out.

"Oh, hi!" Laurel switches the phone to her other shoulder and goes back to folding. "How are you?"

"Oh, God, Laureeeeel..." Ellie groans, rubbing her temples. Her voice more than a little hoarse and exasperated like she's been using it extensively. "Hi. Sorry- I'm all right, but it's Hardy. He's gone and - ugh, he's done something _incredibly_ stupid, Laurel, even for him. He's fine at the moment, I've got him here, but, uh- how are you? I'm sorry to call so early, it's just…"

She covers the phone to muffle the noise. "Yes, it's Laurel, you _dolt-_ your nurse!" A light groan and she uncovers the receiver. "Sorry, Laurel."

The "dolt" comment- which Laurel has no trouble understanding despite the muffled voice- makes her grin. "Oh, what's he done, love?" She stands up, putting on a pair of shoes, feeling as if she'll be leaving her house soon. "I'm sure I can help."

Ellie sits down for this one and sighs. "Ugh, Laurel... He's dismissed himself from the hospital. Went over this morning to visit and they said he'd checked himself out at three... Went over to his house, and there he was, _working_ -" coughs 'knob' under her breath- "I'm here now. Is he in any _immediate_ danger, d'you reckon? 'Cause I will _make_ him go back if I must."

"Oh, _damn_ ," Laurel mutters under her breath. She's not entirely surprised. "Mm, I'll grab my kit and come over, if you'd like. I can't force him to go back, of course, but I can try to talk to him and if nothing else, I can make sure he's doing alright for now. I'm sure he's in no immediate danger."

She pauses and grins. "I get awfully bored on my days off, anyway. It's no bother at all."

" _Laurel_ , you're a scholar and a saint. I'll text you the address, or- d'you have it? _Thank you_ , bless. Christ. I'll make sure he eats something."

"I think I know where he lives, but go ahead and send it to me just in case, love. Won't take me five minutes to get there… Oh, and Ellie?" She grabs a bag that she keeps packed for things like this and leaves, locking the door behind her as she goes. Hardy's street is just across the fairgrounds from hers, if she remembers right.

Ellie sighs in relief. "Mm?"

"Pour yourself a glass of wine, sit down, and relax a bit. I know he's stressing you out, but I'm coming to help. It's not all on you, okay?"

Ellie laughs a little breathlessly. "Aaaah, all right, then. I'll do that, too." There's a grin on her face for the first time all afternoon. "Thank you. See you."

Laurel smiles. "Chin up, Ellie. I'll be right there." She hangs up and checks the address she's been sent- she was right about where the house is. It's not another minute before she's knocking on the glass door.

Ellie slides the door open, glass of wine in hand.

Hardy's dropping a stack of papers on the table in the room behind her. "For god's sake, _Miller_ -"

"Laurel!" Ellie smiles. "Thank you for coming over." She steps back to welcome the nurse inside.

"Any time," Laurel says kindly, touching Ellie's arm in solidarity as she passes into the house. She grins when she spots the glass of wine. At least _one_ patient will listen to her.

Hardy gives them both a very flat look, his hands on his hips.

"So, Mr. Hardy," Laurel starts lightly. "I see you've taken it upon yourself to leave the hospital early."

"Yes, I have. I'm not going back."

"And why's that, love?"

He sighs, beyond exasperated. "I've spent enough time there." This is said with an air of finality as he turns to gather up the next stack of papers.

Miller tries to keep out of it for the time being, quickly drinking the rest of her glass and closing the door. "Don't be such an ass, _sir_. She's here to help."

"Thanks for that, Miller." Snide.

Laurel chuckles at the both of them. "You know we keep patients for a reason, right? Not just for our own entertainment." She approaches him with her bag in hand.

He drops the stack he's holding and watches her warily. "Is this necessary?" he asks dryly.

"I _highly_ encourage you to go back, but if you're set on staying here, will you _at least_ let me see how you're doing?"

Miller pours herself more wine, feeling as if she'll need it.

Hardy takes a deep breath. "I suppose."

"Thanks!" Laurel chirps. "How've you felt since you left? Have you been taking everything you were prescribed?"

He crosses his arms and sighs. "Yes, yes, I have been. Dutifully. Feel fine."

"That's good," Laurel says encouragingly. "Keep doing that, please." She pulls her stethoscope out of her bag. "Open your shirt for me, love."

There's a very brief eye roll, but he does as she says.

She presses her stethoscope to his chest, listening for the sounds of a properly functioning pacemaker. Though he's annoyed with playing the patient, he takes steady breaths to help "You're sounding alright," she murmurs. "Open up, I want to get your temperature."

Hardy buttons up his shirt and opens his mouth as he does so.

Laure's thermometer comes out of the bag next and she sticks it in his mouth til it beeps. 37°. Perfect.

"No signs of infection," she says softly. "We need to keep you that way."

"Mm."

"Let me get your blood pressure and then we need to have a bit of a chat, alright?"

He sighs. "Fine."

She takes his blood pressure- also fine- before sitting down next to him.

"You told me that Ellie's a mum of two, right?" she starts softly.

Miller's busying herself with other things, but she's feeling very smug listening to him being bossed around.

Hardy glances at Ellie and then clasps his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees a little. "She is," he confirms, raising an eyebrow.

Laurel nods. "You've got a daughter, too, so you know how much work it is to raise a child. She's got two. Twice the work."

He sniffs and doesn't answer.

"To be completely honest with you here, love, she doesn't need the extra stress of trying to keep you alive."

"It's not her responsibility." He glances over at Miller.

Miller rolls her eyes. "It is if you _make_ it, sir."

Laurel shakes her head. "You don't know how women work, do you?" She's being very gentle even though he's frustrating her.

"...seriously?"

"She cares for you... so yes, she's going to see it as her responsibility."

"I don't-" He pauses, scrubbing his face with his hands and leaning back on the couch. "Of course I don't want to add stress, Darvill… But I'm not a child."

Miller snorts from the other side of the room as if this is questionable.

"I know you're not a child. But it doesn't matter. She's a mother and you're important to her. Mr. Hardy, all I ask is that you make a real effort to take care of yourself- you don't seem to want to do it for yourself, so do it for her. And for your daughter."

Hardy softens a bit, but he's still grim about it. "Alright…" He swallows and looks away. "But I can't go back. I've got-" Pauses. "I've got things. To deal with. People, they're included. I have to take care of them."

Miller mumbles something to herself about 'yeah, well, not if you /die/.'

Hardy doesn't miss this and he shakes his head. "Believe me, if I didn't have to, if it weren't urgent, I'd stay in that hospital until I was 100%. But I have people whose lives are in danger."

Laurel nods. "That's fine... But you've just had a very serious operation, love, and you need some monitoring. I'd like to come over a few times a day to check on you like I'd do in the hospital." She looks at him straight on, evaluating. "But I need you to trust my professional judgment. If something changes and I say you need to go back, I want you to go back. I don't know what it is you do, but I understand that it's important... And Ellie is right. You won't help anyone if you're not breathing."

He slowly leans back, nodding. "Alright. No, you're right. Thank you." Deep sigh.

"Good." She smiles at him again. "And please, call me Laurel. I genuinely prefer it."

"Fine. Laurel." He frowns a little, hoping he remembers it.

She chuckles. "Thanks. I'll go ahead and leave you to your work. But I'll be back this evening, okay?"

Hardy nods, moving to get up again. "Right."

Laurel moves toward the door. "Ellie?" she calls.

Ellie peeks out from the kitchen and hurries over.

"Laurel, thank you so much."

"Not a problem at all. I'm coming back this evening to check on him."

Ellie warmly squeezes the nurse's shoulder and nods. Low, so Hardy can't hear: "You're saving him, you know."

Laurel's got a touched smile on her face. "No, that's all you. He wouldn't listen to me if you didn't make him."

Ellie shakes her head and glances back over at him… he's already absorbed back in the pile of papers nearest him. "Oh, kind words... He's stubborn no matter what." Half smile and she gives Laurel a nod.

Laurel laughs. "I can tell." She hesitates for a moment. "Just so you know, though, there's wine at my house, too. I'm just one street back if you'd like to come visit sometime."

Ellie brightens a little. "I will, then, thank you." She grins; seems like she's found a new friend and a new ally.

Laurel heads for the door. "Alright, I won't keep you from your job any longer. See you in a few hours, Mr. Hardy. Bye, Ellie."

Ellie bites lip, a wee bit less worried and now able to focus on Fred a little better. "Bye," she says softly.

Hardy waves vaguely, but he's already busy again.

* * *

Laurel comes over midmorning of the next day. She knocks on the door and calls through the glass. "In there, Mr. Hardy?"

Hardy steps over some paper piles on the floor, pulls a cloth over a pin board and slides the door open. "Um. Laurel, hi."

"Good morning!"

"Morning," he replies. Quick smile.

Laurel steps in the house and starts pulling out equipment, following the little routine they've already established.

"Still improving?" She thinks his color is better today.

He steps back carefully over stacks, too, following her and nodding. "Mm. Not dizzy."

"Excellent." Laurel gives him a happy smile.

He finds place on the couch as established, thinking wryly that it's somewhat more convenient than a hospital bed if nothing else. The blonde nurse offers him the thermometer when he sits, which he carefully accepts and sticks in mouth.

Laurel reads the number and makes a note in the tiny notebook she's taken to bringing along.

"Shirt, please?"

He opens it, straightens his back.

Laurel examines the incision sites, clucking under her breath. "Little bit more red than I'd like today, but I'll keep an eye on it. Should be nothing to worry about."

Hardy nods once.

* * *

Daisy has let the "new answerphone message" notification sit on her screen for two whole days by the time she does anything about it. It makes her a little anxious, a little angry, a little belligerent because her shit father doesn't know how to leave her alone. She knows he knows how much she doesn't want to hear from him, at least not on /his/ terms, but he continues to try. He's come back once recently and she has to admit that it was nice to see him— well, sort of nice, at least— but that doesn't mean she wants to chat with him every bloody day.

Still, the answerphone notification taunts her, sitting there on her mobile in the form of a little red dot on the calling app, same as it does every time he calls. Finally, gritting her teeth and in full eye-rolling glory, she hits the playback button.

She thinks it's a good thing that she's alone when she listens to it, because it's not what she expects. She's known about his "broken heart" for a long time, but she's shoved it out of her thoughts, doesn't like thinking about it. The way he phrases it, though… they've "put" a pacemaker in him. She doesn't know much about pacemakers, but that sounds dangerous. With shaking fingers, she pulls her laptop computer off of her bedside table and starts to search and read.

She feels more and more like shit herself as she takes in the information that Google has to offer her. This surgery could have killed him, she knows it, and while _yes_ , he's apparently made it through, she's let his call fester for two days. He could be dead now. Logically, she knows that makes no sense— someone would tell Mum, Mum would tell her, but she feels the urge to call him back and _make sure_. She's never really wanted to call him back before, but there's something about the possibility of losing him altogether that puts a damper on her resentment.

It doesn't help that he says "call me - when you get a chance," as if he knows she won't— and he's not stupid, she's sure he knows what to expect by now… but the "love you" clenches her heart because she does love him. She's just angry.

There's no question of ignoring him now, though, at least not til she knows he's alright. She hits the right button to phone him back and sits against the headboard of her bed with closed eyes and a pained expression, waiting for him to answer.

* * *

Laurel pulls out her blood pressure cuff and gets it situated on Hardy's arm. Once he decides he's going to _be_ a patient and do as she asks, he's a fairly good one.

Hardy rebuttons his last button, quiet throughout the process. He has no problem doing what must be done.

"Do you have a scale here, Mr. Hardy? I'd prefer to track your weight once every couple of days... Just to make sure you're not losing weight."

"Sure. Think there's one around here."

He gets up to go check the linen closet, under the tub, a few other places it might be stuffed away… there it is! On the way back to the room, he swipes his phone off of the table, his scale tucked under his arm. " _Shit_ ," he murmurs, freezing and wincing at the notification on the display.

Laurel watches Hardy suddenly stop moving. "Everything alright?" she asks, concerned that he's had an unexpected pain.

"Yeah," he answers quickly, focused on calling his answerphone. He swallows when he hears Daisy's voice: "Hi, Dad, it's Daisy. I just heard your message, and, well- er, call me back?"

Softly, "shit, shit, _shit_..." He immediately rings her back, leaning on his knuckles on the table… frustrated with himself for missing her call. She _never_ calls.

Laurel sits on the couch as she waits, worried about him but not at all impatient.

He's muttering under his breath. "Come on, come on…"

Daisy jumps when her phone rings, just a few minutes after she leaves a message of her own. She takes a deep breath before hitting answer. "Dad?" She sounds younger than her years right now because she's so worried.

His heart clenches when he hears her voice. There's nothing around him now except Daisy on the receiver. "Hi, darling… Got your message."

"Are you- are you okay?" Daisy asks hesitantly. That's more important than anything else she wants to say.

Hardy swallows, shifts a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, everything's looking fine. I've got someone checking up on me and everything's working now." That's about all he wants to say about it.

"Oh, _good_." She's not sure what else to say about it, but her lip is trembling and she's so relieved.

"How've- how are things?" he asks, leaning on the table.

"Um, things are the same as always. I have Friday off of school, so that's nice."

"Oh, good. Conferences? Classes going well?"

She sighs. "Classes are awful. Conferences were two weeks ago. And Mum got a very good report, thank you very much."

He grins. "Ah. Glad to hear it."

"Listen, Dad…" She trails off, wondering if this is something she really wants to suggest... wondering if it's time to swallow her pride and start letting go of her resentment.

"...Yeah?" He pauses, proud little grin fading. Gently, "sweetheart, what is it?"

"Um, I was thinking, if you want, maybe I could come visit this weekend, since I have that day off? Mum could drive me over Thursday after school and pick me up on Sunday. I haven't seen your new town yet…"

Hardy has to take a moment, surprised, and the pause is just half a second too long.

"Or, or not," Daisy mutters.

"...I would love that, Daisy, yes. You're always welcome here."

"Oh!" She took his silence for a no at first. "Um, that's good, then. I'll have to ask Mum, of course, but I thought it might be a good idea, after your surgery and all."

He's got a smile on his face that's tentative but very genuine. "I would love to have you over, yes."

"I'll text you after I talk to her." Daisy's slightly nervous… apparently she's going to visit her Dad voluntarily for the first time ever.

"All right, darling. Talk to you then."

"Bye, Dad... I love you." It's grudging, slightly, but she means it.

"Bye. Love you, too."

He cannot believe it… _cannot_ believe it! This is the first time Daisy has volunteered to spend time with him in… God, he doesn't want to think how long. He's just got to stand there leaning back against the table for a moment after hanging up, a slow, slightly painful smile growing on his lips, making him feel loads lighter. He turns the phone volume up- not going to miss anything from Daisy this time- and puts his phone in his pocket, returning to the couch.

"Right... Sorry about that, Laurel." He lets out a big sigh, but it's not a sad one. "Er—" He awkwardly sets down the scale he's apparently holding very tightly.

"Nothing to worry about." Laurel pauses. "It's nice to see you smile."

Hardy smiles again in spite of himself, laughing a little. "Yeah…"

"Talking to your daughter?"

"Yeah. That was Daisy. Going to talk to her mother about visiting... this weekend." He leans back and stares at the floor for a minute, lost in thought, wearing a very tiny, worn smile.

"I'm glad you got to talk to her. Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop... But that's lovely. I'm sure it will be so nice to have her here with you." She knows his smile isn't for her benefit, but she returns it anyway.

He looks back at Laurel and nods a little- "It's all right... I had to take it, right there - didn't mean to put you in that position. Thanks."

"Well, anyway, I hope it works out for you."

"Mhm."

She gestures to the scale. "Ready to take your weight?"

"Ah. Yeah." He stands back up, carefully stepping onto it. Squints vaguely down at the numbers, his mind wandering a bit.

Laurel notes down his weight. "We'll do it again in two days."

Hardy nods, steps off. "Laurel…"

She stands up and shoulders her bag. "Yeah?" There's a smile on her face.

"Thank you. For helping me," he says sincerely, his hands sliding into his pockets. "I know this is outside of your hours, and I want you to be paid for it."

"Oh, you're welcome! No, there's no need, I promise. I... I like doing it."

He quirks an eyebrow.

She opens her mouth, closes it again.

"And I like reading case briefings. I'm paying you." There's a little humour in his voice. "But you'll need to tell me how much, I don't want to underpay you."

She snorts. "Oh, yeah, you're a copper, right? I think I heard someone mention that."

Slightly wry smile. "Miller, probably. Can't keep to herself."

Laurel laughs. "She's great. But, I, um…" She's debating again, wondering whether or not she should share.

Hardy quirks his eyebrows, waiting.

"I lost someone. And he was alone when he died. John Doe situation, didn't identify him til he was gone. You were alone when you came out of surgery and onto my floor. I thought of my- the man I lost, and…" She pauses a little again, swallowing. Not the easiest thing to talk about. "It just helps, helping you. I don't want to be paid for it. Helps with the grief, I mean."

Wearing a grim expression, Hardy listens, keeping his eyes on her. "...I'm sorry."

She shrugs, a little uncomfortable. "Thanks. It was a few years ago. I've mostly accepted it."

He nods a little, contemplative. "All the same."

"Funny that you're police, though... Because the Bournemouth police never found out who did it. Ironic." She's not sure what made her say that.

"Mm." His voice is a little constricted. "Some cases…" A little awkward, he shakes his head and returns tentatively to the couch. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She shakes her head, too. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that as an insult. I'm sure they did everything they could to figure it out."

"No, it's all right. Sometimes it's not enough…" Hardy swallows back the tightness in his throat and has to drop his gaze, thinking of the various times that he's felt his own work hasn't been enough.

She nods, a small smile playing at her lips. "I appreciate what they did... or tried to do. I just miss my- the man I lost."

Very gently, "…your fiancé?"

She blinks at him a few times. "Yes. How did you know?"

He shrugs a little but still can't look at her again yet. "Said you weren't married... Sounded like you never had been. I don't know. Either that or your brother, but I thought…." He finally looks back at her.

"Oh. Well, yeah. We were two months out from the wedding."

He nods, unsure of what to say in response to this.

Her expression turns more bitter than it usually is. "Car accident. Hit and run."

Hardy doesn't want to push this, but if it helps her… "Oh, god…" He bows his head a little.

"He was supposed to be going on a business trip to London, and he went for a last minute jog before he drove over. But since he was supposed to be gone anyway, we didn't know to report him missing. They might've figured out who it was faster if we had. He was in a coma for three days. I found out he'd been hit on the fourth. The day he died, a few hours after his heart stopped."

He looks up again at her as he listens. She's going into it. She clearly needs someone to listen.

Laurel swallows and lets out a slightly shaky chuckle. "Sorry, Mr. Hardy. You didn't need to hear all of that."

His voice when he replies is very soft and a bit pained. "No, Laurel... I did. Because you needed to tell it. And I am so sorry."

She laughs again- it's still not a happy sound. "You're a patient, not a counselor. But still, I very much so appreciate you listening. Thank you."

Hardy leans back, settling in a little. "No, but I do hear these stories often. They never get less painful. I may not know how to counsel, but I do know how to listen, Laurel... And if you won't let me pay you for what you've done, then as least know that you have an ear, if you want one." He smiles slightly. "Think I can safely volunteer Miller's as well."

"The work you do... It's underappreciated. I couldn't do what you do and not become completely jaded. It's very kind of you to continue doing it even when you're supposed to be at home relaxing," Laurel offers in return, soft.

"Well…" Doesn't want to mention it's killing him instead of just making him jaded. "It's a lonely town."

She nods. "I've thought that myself. I've been here for six months and haven't really made any friends in that time. It's quiet, though, and I appreciate that." Bournemouth was too big for her. She misses it but she's happier here, even alone.

He nods back. "It's become less friendly, since that boy died. But the people here- they still care a lot. They've just been scared."

"Everyone has been very kind. Just not- I don't know, not overly welcoming. Like they expect me to do something."

"...Yeah. It wasn't always like that. It's a tourist town, so it's normally very welcoming... I'm told."

"Oh, what happened with that, that boy's death? You must know, since you're the police. It was on the news in Bournemouth, but I didn't pay much attention to it. Stuff like that- it just makes me too sad. I like to live in ignorant bliss."

Hardy sucks in a breath. "Well-" Slight pause. "It's why I came here... technically speaking."

"Oh?" It occurs to her that he may not want to talk about it. "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me. It was callous of me to ask."

He shakes his head. "Not at all. You live here now, you ought to know what happened. It's changed things completely."

She swallows and shrugs. "Be that as it may, I don't want to tear open old wounds. It's such a childish thing, but... Every so often I find myself just /wishing/, wishing on a star or something like that, that bad things didn't happen. That people didn't die. Especially not children."

"Well..." Averting his gaze again, he speaks very quietly. "I don't think you're alone in that. The loss of that boy tore this town apart. Something like what happened here... it leaves holes. Ones that can't be filled."

Alec's phone dings with a text from Daisy. "Mind if I…?"

"Oh, no, of course," she replies, gesturing to his phone.

 _Mum says ok. See you Thursday at half eight or so_ , the text reads.

He can't help grinning a little, and he quickly replies. _Thanks for the update. See you then. Love, Dad._

He pockets the phone, sighing a little. "Daisy said she'd come."

Laurel gathered from his expression that the text was from Daisy even before his words, and her smile is more genuine than it has been since she told him about Ben. "That's lovely."

He gives her a small smile because yes, it really is. Some part of him had been anxious that Tess wouldn't let her come, despite the agreement that they have in place.

He shakes himself, back to the grim subject at hand. "Anyway, it- it's worse for Miller, quite frankly…"

"Why is it worse for Ellie? Did she work on that case, too?"

"Yeah… yeah, Miller did work that case. She was my DS."

"Oh, I'm sorry for both of you. I can't imagine. And she's got kids, too..." She feels wrong for her morbid curiosity.

Hardy's a bit torn, on the verge of telling Laurel more of the story but changing his mind back and forth. "...it was her husband, Laurel. Her husband Joe was guilty."

It takes a moment for that to filter in. Her jaw drops when it does. "Oh, God," she whispers.

"The family whose son was killed... They were her best friends. Or- among them at least."

This time, her hand rises to her mouth. "That son of a _bitch_." It's the most venom she's had in her voice since coming to Broadchurch, and it sounds strange in her normally soft voice.

Hardy shifts a little because this is a bit uncomfortable, brows staring at a place on the ground again. "Mm."

"I'd never know something so terrible had happened to her from talking to her. She's made of steel. How horrible all of this must be for her... And she's such a lovely woman." She shakes her head, aghast.

"Well… Yes, it's destroyed her life. She's coping."

"She needed that glass of wine worse than I thought she did." This isn't intended to actually be spoken, just a thought, but it does come out. She shakes her head. "I'm very sorry. For her and for you and for this town. No wonder everything is the way it is."

He shakes his head. "...it's changed everything here, yes. I'm sure she'll appreciate your sympathy."

Laurel quirks her head. "Maybe I shouldn't try to give her any. It might be nice to have one person who doesn't know about it. I know it's been nice for me being here where no one knows about Ben- um, my fiancé- because back home, I stopped being Laurel. I was just the girl who lost her fiancé."

Hardy nods. "I know she enjoyed meeting you. She could really use friends right about now. It's much the same, here. Can't go down the street without people whispering."

"I would dearly love to be her friend," Laurel murmurs sincerely. "I just wish I could offer more than that."

Hardy opens his hands a little, almost like a shrug. "You've already done so much."

"Have I?" This both surprises her and pleases her. It's a discovery of sorts that she has friends here.

He finds himself half-smiling at her expression. "She mentions you every other hour, seems like."

Laurel laughs. "That's probably because you need regular reminders that you're supposed to be keeping up with your health, Mr. Hardy."

He's got to laugh at that. She might be right. "Be that as it may. She trusts you, already."

Laurel pinkens and smiles. "She may just be my first friend here." She's sure Ellie's trust isn't the world's easiest thing to gain these days.

"I think she might," he replies, smiling at her again.

She's getting a lot of enjoyment out of the conversation, but she now has a far greater understanding of what he does and why it's so important, and she feels as if she's taken up too much of his time as it is.

She lays a hand on his forearm and squeezes lightly. "Thanks for... talking and listening and- just, it's been nice. I'll go ahead and get out of your hair and leave you to your work."

He gives her a soft, very genuine smile… it's a rare expression for him. "It's been my pleasure, Laurel. Thanks for looking after me."

She feels a little bit like she's earned something unusual, taking in his expression. "Of course, love. And Mr. Hardy, if you ever find yourself in need of a friend... Well, my door's always open to you, too." She starts to gather up the remaining pieces of her kit.

"Thanks, Laurel…" He stands, too, picking up the scale to put it away again and trying not to hover.

"I'll see you this evening." She heads for the door.

"Yep. See you then." He waves.

This time, when she walks home, she's got a smile on her face.


	3. Chapter 3

When Laurel arrives at Hardy's house Thursday evening, she finds herself feeling surprisingly bittersweet. If he's still healthy tonight- and he should be- she'll tell him that he's graduated from nurse care. While it's a bit of a victory, him being healthy enough to no longer need her help, she's also come to enjoy his company and she'll miss speaking with him. Still, she feels cheerful as she knocks on the door.

Hardy's been making a good recovery. There's no doubt Laurel's help has been essential, and he still intends to find a way to return the help, some way, some day... This new lease on life has been giving him energy he hasn't felt in ages. Still trouble sleeping at night, of course, but breathing easier, less lethargy during the day... Easing up on the medication. It's been over two years since he's felt anywhere near this good, and now to top it off - Daisy will be here in an hour.

He pulls open the door to welcome Laurel inside when he hears her knock. "Evening."

"Hi!" Laurel says with a grin as she steps past him. "I've got news for you, love. If everything's still alright tonight, I think I won't need to check you anymore. You're really doing quite well."

Raising his eyebrows at the news, he closes the door behind her.

"Am I doing that well?" he asks as he finds his usual place on the couch. He's actually a little surprised.

"You are! You'll still need to keep follow-up appointments with your surgeon, of course, but as far as I'm concerned, you're just about past needing regular check ups." She's honestly a little proud of him. He's recovering well despite his workload.

"Well. That is good news, then. Think I may miss these appointments, though. I can't thank you enough." He clasps his hands.

"Oh, really?" she asks, pleased. "It's really been lovely getting to know you. It's been my pleasure. I'm glad you're doing well enough to not need me, though. Next time we'll meet under better circumstances, yeah?"

"Better than hospital visits," he says a little wryly, shrugging. "Anyway, likewise. And I'm sure we will."

She takes his blood pressure and his temperature. "Alright, let me get one last look at your incisions there."

"Mhm," he murmurs, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

She lightly prods the skin around the fresh scars, feeling for heat that would indicate an infection. She doesn't hear someone approaching the door behind her.

* * *

Daisy is already grumpy from the long ride before she even gets out of the car. She gives her mum a truncated hug goodbye, grabs her bag, and tries not to stomp as she approaches the door.

It's a glass door, though, and she can see straight through it. There on the couch, some blonde is- ugh, _touching_ her father's chest- and Daisy's mood goes from bad to worse. She raps on the door, looking to interrupt and already regretting her visit. "Really, Dad!?" she demands loudly, knowing he can hear her.

Hearing his daughter's voice, Hardy jumps, getting to his feet and hurrying to the door. He closes up his shirt as he goes, pulling the door open. "Daisy!"

Daisy rolls her eyes. "Couldn't have let your girlfriend-" she pulls a face and gestures to the couch- "do _that_ before I arrived?"

"This is Laurel. She's been looking after me," he corrects gently.

"I don't _care_ what her name is."

"Daisy—"

Laurel is standing with one hand frozen midway through packing away her blood pressure cuff, horrified.

"Don't 'Daisy' me. Just tell her to piss off," the 15-year-old snaps. Laurel does not need telling twice. She scurries to finish packing her bag.

"You're early." Hardy's voice holds some warning.

"So!? You knew I was coming today, Dad! Jesus, I should just go home." Too bad Mum's already pulled out.

Hardy's a little trapped. "Laurel- sorry. Please, just-"

Laurel shakes her head, eyes wide, and edges around them out the door toward safety.

He rubs his face, watching her go. He'll call later to explain. She's been too good to deserve this and he's feeling obligated to call and apologize on behalf of his very rude daughter. "Daisy, listen."

Daisy glares at her father and shoves past him into the cottage. "I don't want to hear it."

"They had to cut me open to put it in, the pacemaker." He feels just the slightest bit helpless.

"I know!" she snaps. "You told me already!"

"So she's been checking for infection! Honestly. _Daisy._ "

"'Checking for infection,'" she scoffs. "Is that what you kids are calling it these days?"

"Does your mother let you talk to people like that, hm, Daisy?"

"Like _what_?" She feels quite entitled to her righteous anger.

He stares at her like he can't figure out who she is. "This woman's been keeping me _alive_! But even if she hasn't, you don't - _treat_ people that way." His tone has changed enough to finally slice through the haze of bitter anger and she closes her mouth, listening to him.

He's still staring in disbelief. " _Do you_ , though? Is this the sort of language you're using now? And you're going to talk to _me_ this way, too?"

She swallows, ignoring his demand for the moment. "You meant it, then? She's just... she's just patching you up?" She assumed that it was just a line, a throwaway to get her to shut it.

This earns her a very flat look. "Of course she is." He shakes his head. "I don't particularly want you to see it, but if you can't take my word anymore, then…" He can't help feeling that Tess did this.

Daisy takes a shuddering breath and starts to feel very bad about herself all of the sudden. She's been unfair and immature and she knows it.

Seeing a weakening in the battle lines, he holds out his arms a little weakly. "Haven't even said hello yet… Come here, darling."

He doesn't want her to act the way she did, but he doesn't want her to feel bad, either.

Her lip trembles and- forgetting for a moment that he's just had serious surgery- she launches at him, hugging him tightly and feeling tears sting her eyes. "I'm sorry," she mumbles against his shirt. "It's been a long, shitty day. Shouldn't have jumped to conclusions or talked to you like that."

She's not about to admit that it felt like a punch in the gut to see him with a woman who's not Mum. They're supposed to be a family and he just _left_ , and now he's got a whole life without her and Mum. She knows that case went badly, but... He just _left_.

Her hug knocks the wind out of him a little, but he holds her very, very tightly in return. "Oh... It's all right, darling. I'm so glad you're _here_ , I've... I've _really_ missed you."

He kisses the top of her head and rubs her back a little.

"I've missed you, too." And she has. It doesn't happen very often, but sometimes she longs for a hug from him so badly it aches.

"What happened today, hm?" he asks gently.

"You're not going to kick me out for being rude, are you? Just, it's a long walk back home..." She glances up at him, a tentative half-smile playing at her lips as she teases.

He gives her a little half-smile back. "Well... Do it again, I might have to reconsider..." Completely teasing.

"I'll be careful not to, Officer," she says with mock seriousness. Oh, she _has_ missed him.

"...everything alright at home?" He's laughing just a little. God, she's growing up...

"Mm, yes, mostly."

"...and your mother?"

"She's fine." Her tone is a little more curt again. He doesn't get to ask about Mum.

He nods. He's not particularly keen to do more than touch on the subject, either, but he also gets the hint.

Daisy is ready to change the subject. She pulls away from him and plops onto the couch.

"Anything to drink?" her dad asks as he cleans up more of the various stacks of paper, putting them off to the side.

"Water, maybe?" she answers, and then frowns. "Boys are stupid," she says, apropos of nothing.

He fetches water for both of them, hands one over, and settles next to her. "Can't argue that," he replies, frowning slightly. "Why the sudden wisdom?"

Daisy murmurs her thanks and takes a sip as she deliberates on how much to tell him. "Jeremy started texting Georgia this week, while he's still texting _me_. And he thinks I don't know."

Hardy quirks an eyebrow, taking a sip. "Did he, now?"

" _Yes_." It's growled, but then she sighs. "I don't like him that much, anyway. His nose is awfully big."

He nods, as this seems the appropriate response.

She toes her shoes off and then nudges Dad's leg with one foot. "What is wrong with you people, though!?"

"Hah. Don't know how to keep our noses out of other people's business, I suppose," he says, amused, crossing his ankles.

She shakes her head, exasperated. "That's for sure. Honestly, did he think he'd get away with it? Doesn't he _know_ Georgia is my best mate? Boys are stupid," she concludes again.

"Cheers to that," Hardy replies dryly.

Daisy raises her glass to his toast- even though he didn't mean it as one- and sighs.

He clinks her glass anyway, smiling. "Have you spoken to Georgia about this? She's your best friend, after all."

"Yes. She told me as soon as Jeremy texted her. And then we worked together to text him back, only Jeremy didn't know I was with her. And it turns out that he is _so_ unloyal."

" _Well_ , then."

She smirks. "Georgia 'accidentally' dumped her pudding in his lap yesterday. Is that a crime, DI Hardy? Also, is it a crime to laugh at it?"

"Mm, I'll let it slide… Trying not to laugh as we speak." He's grinning at her.

She grins back and elbows him lightly. "Knew I got my devious streak from you. Mum didn't think it was funny at all."

He's more smirking than grinning, honestly. "Oh, well…"

The grin falls off of Daisy's face slowly, though, as she watches him. "Are you sure you're alright, Dad?" She got distracted with her own dramatic entrance and forgot to ask, but she needs confirmation in person now.

"Hm? Oh, yes… Yes, um." He's got to change gears, himself. "Tonight was to be my last check-up, if all was well, which it probably still is, so... " He trails off. "No more problems."

Her face heats up at the mention of his checkup. Oops. She nods, though. "Okay. I'm glad to hear it. Just-" she looks away. "please tell me first next time."

He deliberately sets water down to look at her. "Dais'…"

She ignores his gaze.

"I promise I will. I hope there'll never be a next time, but…"

"Thanks, Dad," she replies softly. She doesn't want to look at him. She doesn't want to /cry/ and she's afraid she might.

"I didn't want you to worry," he explains softly, adding a gentle squeeze to her shoulder.

"How could I not? Even after the fact! I looked it up! 5% of pacemaker insertions have complications! What if something had _happened_? I wouldn't have known! I wouldn't have been able to say goodbye!" She just can't believe he'd keep this from her.

Watching her somberly, he clasps his hands. "...I know." Now's not the time to mention that the risks were higher in his condition. He chooses his words carefully. "I just… I couldn't bear to put you through that uncertainty."

She's angry with him, frustrated and hurt, but her primary emotion is still bone-aching, soul-consuming _relief_. He's okay. Thank god, he's okay.

She sets her glass aside and turns to bury her face in his shoulder. "I'm not a kid anymore, Dad," she says quietly. "I can take it."

He gives her a firm hug. "...I know, sweetheart. I should have... should have let you know. I know you could have handled it… I was the one who couldn't."

Daisy nods, feeling her cheek brush against his shirt as she does. Despite her best efforts, a couple of small tears slip out. She's used to him being unshakeable, a constant through everything even as she's continually pushed him away, and it's unsettling to hear him admit this.

"I'm glad you're okay," she offers in a mumble. "I don't want you to die."

"Well... I appreciate that, thanks." A rather weak, shaky laugh escapes him. "I'm not ready to. I still want to see you grow up into the beautiful woman I know you are and you'll become. I don't want to miss that."

 _This_ , at least, is familiar territory. "Ugh, _Dad_ , you don't have to get all mushy on me."

He knows he's doing it again, but he can't help it. He feels as if this time, he's allowed. "Sorry, darling, but I mean it."

She pulls away, shaking her head and grinning a little grin. "Of course you do. That's what makes you so cheesy."

"At least I'm made from whole milk now... Okay, that doesn't really work, does it? Whole-hearted...? No?"

It's making her feel better, this pseudo-annoyed banter, and she groans. "What is wrong with you? Why can't you talk like a normal human? Do you _know_ what century we're in?"

He laughs. "Maybe I've been dropped off on the wrong date. Good thing I'm not expired."

She wrinkles her nose. "Better see if they'll return you to the right one, then. Have you got a time machine or something for that?"

Grinning, he pokes her. "I might have…"

Daisy groans again, more loudly this time, and squirms away from the poke. "You're insufferable, you are."

"That's my job, you know. Even before my other one."

Despite the fact that it's still a relatively early hour, she finds herself getting tired as they sit on the sofa. "Mm, insufferable time traveler, where am I sleeping this weekend?"

"Right. I'll show you to your room, cheese-suffering companion…"

Daisy rolls her eyes, smiling a little, and follows after him.

"It's a bit- small. Well, the whole place is. Sorry about the mess." Stacks of papers. Mostly nonsensitive…

She shrugs. "It's cute. And it's a little bigger on the inside, I think. Looks tiny from the outside."

" _Well_. Maybe it is." He grins. "Anything I can carry? Is that all you brought?"

She snorts. "I've got arms and they work perfectly well. I'm fine, thanks. This is all I've got."

He nods. "Right... This is the kitchen, over there- bathroom. Help yourself to anything you need, obviously. And through here… Here's your room." He pushes the door open to the tiny second bedroom. "So- don't mind those books in that corner- but this room is all yours. Always. Any time you want it."

Daisy nods along with the tour, looking around with interest. She's somewhat pleased to discover no signs of another person living here. She's been worried that she'd find evidence of some girlfriend he's been hiding away. It's part of the reason she got so upset at finding him with the nurse. "Thanks, Dad. It's nice, I like it."

Hardy can't help but look delighted. Her approval of everything means a lot to him. "I'll, er- let you get settled, then. Need anything else…?"

"No, I think 'm fine. I'm glad I came." She offers him a little smile. She can tell how badly he wants her to like being here with him, so she's trying, she really is.

He returns the smile, his matching hers in size. "G'night, pumpkin."

"Good night, Dad."

He leaves to clean up the living room a little; somehow, despite the fact that he tried to clear it up earlier, there's stuff everywhere, most of it work-related.

He's only cleaned up one little corner of the table when his phone pings with a text from Laurel. _I'm so sorry about earlier. I wouldn't have come if I'd realized Daisy was going to get there so early. I hope I didn't screw up the beginning of her visit._

Pausing amidst the mess, he texts her back. _Not your fault. Didn't know she would be here so early. Everything's just fine here, but I want to apologise for her behaviour. I'll be encouraging her to apologise in person, too. She needs to learn to take a little more care; normally she's not like that. I'm sorry if you were made uncomfortable._

He presses send and worries… worries that he said too much, worries that he said too little. Pocketing the phone, he tries to finish up, not sure why this is bothering him so much.

It's only a few minutes before he gets a reply from Laurel. _She's a teenager. I've got a sister her age... I'm used to it. ️ I just didn't want to make things difficult for you. I know how much you're happy to have her._ He starts to reply but another text comes in before he can, also from Laurel. _I hope someday she and I will meet under less hostile circumstances. I'm sure that when she's in her right mind, she's as sweet as she is pretty. She's just a teenager, that's all._

Her easy forgiveness makes him feel a little better, and he doesn't hesitate to respond. _Thanks, Laurel. Your support is invaluable. I do hope you'll both meet again sometime in a better situation. Do we still need to complete those last tests some time?_

Another text from Laurel: _Of course, Mr. Hardy. As for the tests, no, I think you're good to go. If something goes wrong, of course, feel free to call me._

One last message in reply and he's done for the night. _Thanks. I really appreciate all you've done. Take care._

He flicks off the lights and heads to bed.

* * *

Laurel sits at her dining room table for a while, debating… eventually, she makes up her mind and text Ellie. _Are you awake, by any chance?_

A few minutes and half a glass of wine later, a reply comes in. _Laurel! I sure am. How are things?_

 _Actually, I've got a bit of a story to tell, if you're up for it. Can I call?_ Laurel writes back.

Ellie rings Laurel a few minutes later, and by now, Laurel has had several glasses of wine, which leads to her feeling much better about the whole thing. "Oh, Ellie," she says immediately upon answering. "I've just had the most awkward moment with Alec Hardy."

Ellie's all cosied up in bed, and she spits out the water she's been drinking, choking a little at that opener. She's not sure what she expected to hear, but it wasn't that.

Laurel is too caught up in her thoughts to hear the aquatic incident.

Ellie's got to laugh a little. "Sorry! Hello! Did you say _Alec Hardy_?"

"Yes, I did! You know Daisy is staying the weekend, right?"

Ellie gets control over her glass of water and imagines she better set it down for this one. She bookmarks her novel and settles in to listen. "Yes? He did mention it."

"Well, she was supposed to come at half eight."

"Oh, god." Ellie has an inkling of where this is heading.

"I came at half seven to do a checkup. Guess who showed up just as I had my hand in his open shirt, Ellie!?"

" _No_ …" She gasps appropriately. "Oh, no!"

"It was one Daisy Hardy. Let me tell you, she was _not_ pleased to see her father with- and I quote- his 'girlfriend.'"

"No, no... She didn't...? She _did_ —? Oh my god."

"Let's just say that she's got her father's grumpiness and flair for the dramatic. Gorgeous girl, but she's got a temper on her. I got out of there as fast as I could."

"I am _so sorry_." Ellie Miller officially loses it, a peal of laughter coming out that's actually borderline giggly.

Laurel snorts. "It was alarming at the time... Now, after three glasses of Chardonnay, it's a lot funnier."

"Oh, good! Taking your own advice, there, love? 'Cause I've got to say… Did _me_ good. Oh, you poor creature…"

Chuckling, Laurel agrees. "Sure did. Glad it helped you... Helped me, too. Sometimes the answer's just at the bottom of a bottle, in my professional opinion."

" _Is_ that your medical expertise speaking?"

"How do you think I got through nursing school!?" Laurel replies with a laugh.

Ellie snorts. "Bless."

"On the bright side, Ellie, he's doing quite well and he's done with needing regular checkups... So I won't have to try _that_ again with Daisy around."

There's an audible sigh from Ellie. "Laurel, you are a lifesaver. Literally. Thank you. I hope he thanked you proper, too."

Laurel laughs softly. "Mm, turns out I didn't do much of anything. Just monitored him a bit, didn't have to lift a finger to actually _help_. You're welcome, though. And he did. It was a joy to do, honestly."

"Oh, but if you hadn't, I'm not sure he'd've taken care as well... This one's been- well. It's not been an easy case." Her voice falls quickly- and then back up. " _Good_. Well, I'm glad you find him tolerable. I know he's warmed up to you - it's quite clear with him when he has, really… And _believe_ me, he needs to warm up to more people." She laughs.

"Oh, you've both just been lovely," Laurel replies, completely genuinely. "I hate that work is stressing you out, though." She pauses. "I feel as if I'm finally making friends in Broadchurch, so really, I should be thanking /you/."

"Oh, honestly, love... You're too kind. I'm grateful we met, myself. Friendships have been a little strained here, recently, as I'm sure you might know… So…" She bites her lip.

"Mm, I hear everything's tense in this town." She's deliberately misunderstanding here because she doesn't want Ellie to know that she's found out who murdered that boy. She wants to be a friend, not another horrified onlooker. Ellie has enough of those. "We ought to do something together soon. Whenever you've got a babysitter for your kids."

Ellie might be silently happy-crying a little, she can't help it. "Oh-! Yes, it has been, for everyone." sniffs faintly, weak laugh as she listens. "Yes-! Yes, I'm sure I can find someone. Everybody loves Fred… I'll let you know when I've got a few days, yeah? You can tell me which works for you."

"That sounds wonderful!" Laurel says, smiling. "I just work a few nights a week, so I'm usually free. I'm sure we can work something out."

Ellie nods and then remembers Laurel can't see that, so she tries to find her voice. "-perfect! Brilliant. I'll be in touch."

"I look forward to it." There's a smile in Laurel's voice. "Have a good night, love."

"Good night, Laurel." Ellie's smiling, too.

"Bye, Ellie." She rings off.

Ellie hangs up and lets a sob out and downs the rest of her water… Then she settles down with a little smile to read until she falls asleep.

* * *

Daisy rubs her eyes as she finishes getting dressed for the day and wonders into the living room of her dad's cottage. "Morning," she says mid-yawn. It's closer to noon than true morning, but, well... How often does she get a school day off?

Hardy looks up over the rim of his glasses because he's nose-deep in a legal book. "Good morning, you night owl. How late were you up?"

Daisy thinks this through. "Mm, not late. Guess I was just tired." This is punctuated by another yawn.

"That's fair. It's been a busy semester, hm?" He steps carefully over some stacks to greet her.

"Always is, yeah." She's mournful about this. She doesn't like school. "What are we doing today?"

"Well… There's a few things we could do. Mm?" He half-smiles. "What d'you want to do about lunch, or- brunch, for starters? Stay in...? Go out?"

"Do you have to work the whole day this time?"

"No- no."

She wrinkles her nose. "If we're leaving the house I need another half hour to put my face on. Maybe just something here."

"The shower's good, if you want that. I'm taking the rest of this day off, if you've got time for me."

She's surprised. "Really? You?" She can't quite hide her smile, though.

"Yes, me." He gives her a wry look, not appreciating the implication there.

"Ummmmm—"

She gives him a spontaneous hug in answer, interrupting his musing.

"-oh!" He'd been thinking about breakfast food, but he laughs and hugs her back. Before he moved out, he worked so much. This is a nice change.

Hardy sets down coffee mug on the shelf behind her to give a better hug.

Daisy suddenly has a flashback to being four or five years old and giving warm sleepy snuggles on the sofa during Saturday cartoons. She wishes things were still that simple.

Smiling, he kisses the top of her head. Blimey, she's tall now. "Pancakes or waffles?" he murmurs before he can start getting mushy.

Daisy smiles and squishes closer for a moment before stepping back and meandering toward the kitchen, poking her head curiously into the fridge and a few cabinets.

"Pancakes," she answers in a "duh" sort of voice. "I'm not an idiot, Dad."

"Good. That's all I've got anyway." He flips through some higher cabinets before finding the mix.

Daisy laughs. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that you knew in advance how I'd answer that question."

He shrugs, hiding his smile. "WelI, I do know you fairly well, I like to think."

She's not so sure he does, but she's not going to ruin the moment. "At least when it comes to breakfast."

He grins and finishes pulling out breakfast supplies.

"You've got my standard order down, don't you?" she asks, deliberately light.

"Let's see… Two pancakes, right? Blueberry, if possible." Assembling ingredients as he speaks.

Daisy hops on the counter next to him and swings her legs like a kid as she listens. There's a mischievous grin on her face as she waits to see if he gets it right.

"Syrup, but not the regular stuff."

"Oh, _heavens_ no," she says in her best American film star voice.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Hardy asks, snorting.

"Ever seen Gone With the Wind?"

"...Actually, no. Something always gets in the way. It's so long!"

"Oh, you're such a _male._ It's terribly romantic and you're missing out."

" _Am_ I?" He's laughing.

"You _are_ ," she huffs decisively. "Hopelessly so."

"Maybe you'll convince me to see it, then. You'll have to try hard, though."

She rolls her eyes. "If you still need convincing, you're not ready for its genius, Alec Hardy. I'm not sure you'll _ever_ be ready."

"Is that a challenge?" he asks while testing some of the batter.

She pokes him in the nose. "No. I just don't think your poor little manly mind will ever make it there."

He shakes his head, holding out the spoon for her sampling and hopefully approval. "Alas... Not all of us are capable of understanding the classics."

Daisy licks the spoon and gives him a thumbs up. "At least you understand and admit to it. You're a lesser species and that's okay. Accepting that is the first step."

He laughs, pouring some of the better into the pan. "Thank goodness I've got _you_ here to remind me."

She's very smug. "You'd be _lost_ without me."

He definitely would be lost without her.

He shakes his head, grinning at the banter, and sprinkles blueberries… He'd correctly guessed that Daisy would want them. Almost done, he stacks the first pancakes.

The smell makes Daisy salivate. "You've forgotten something vital, though. Where's the _orange juice_!?"

He pauses, eyes wide in mock shock.

"Such a disappointment!" she cries dramatically. This calls for revenge.

"Oh…"

She sticks a finger in the pancake batter and drags it down his cheek. "Now every other chef will see your scars and know the price of failure. Next time, it'll be your head."

Gasping a little, Hardy places a hand over his heart. " _My own daughter_ condemns me…"

"She wouldn't have to if you'd remembered the orange juice! You mustn't blame me for your failure." This whole morning has been so lighthearted that Daisy nearly forgets that she's angry with him.

He puts on a grim expression. "Oh, it's worse than that…" Keeping his eyes locked on her, he feels around in the fridge. "...Nope. Nope… Erm…"

Daisy quirks an eyebrow at this display while Hardy gives up and glances into the fridge. "Ah." He sadly brandishes a bottle of apple juice. "I tried. I did try."

"Oh, do you _dare_ present me with this filth?" she demands, fighting back a laugh.

"I know, I know…" he murmurs, closing the fridge with a sigh.

"Trying is not good enough in the Kitchen Kingdom. Your queen is very disappointed in you."

He sets the bottle down with a sad thud. "...it's not even all the way full. I drank some." Expecting this not to go over well, he hangs his head a little.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" Daisy cries, grabbing the spatula and brandishing it in his direction.

Reaching for his throat, he staggers against the wall. "No...! I just got it insured!"

"You've left no choice! I must make an example of you!"

Accepting his fate, he takes his glasses of with great solemnity and crosses his heart. "If you must, my queen."

"I- just once- will choose mercy. It's life in the dungeons for you," Daisy announces imperiously.

Hardy bows his head."Sorry, my queen, I'm too old to get on my knee. I might not make it up again."

"You should hope that no one misinterprets my wishes and comes to mistakenly kill you on my behalf."

"Will the queen accept pancakes instead?" He's laughing to himself.

"...this is acceptable."

"Here, I'll lead you to our grand patio."

Daisy chuckles and follows along."I must eat away from the peasants, you understand."

"The weather's lovely in these parts… If it doesn't rain..." Hardy glances up at the sky.

Here she breaks character to give him a look. "Dad, have you ever /been/ to England?"

"Oh, yes," he replies, laughing and sliding out the door. "Once or twice."

Daisy mutters something about "lovely weather" under her breath, and Hardy tries not to smile about it. "Be right back," he murmurs. "Apple shame juice," he adds by way of explanation. Setting the pancakes on the little table, he heads inside.

Daisy snorts and sits down. This is /almost/ enough to make her forget how much she resents him for the decisions he's made… almost, but not quite.

Reappearing with the glasses, Hardy slides one to her and settles in on the opposite side of the table.

"Thank you…" Daisy murmurs in keeping with the game… "I _suppose_."

Seeing the opportunity for another dad joke, Hardy quirks an eyebrow. "...at least it's not PC juice... You know. Apple. PC."

Daisy groans. "I'm rethinking my decision not to decapitate you, thanks."

"Right. Keepin' my mouth shut."

"Smart man."

"Eat your pancakes!"

"Yes'm."

"Actually, you should open your mouth to do that."

"Oh—"

"Too late."

"How are they? Not too mushy I hope."

She grins with a mouthful and swallows. "Don't fish for compliments, Dad. You know you make the best pancakes. Ten times better than Mum's."

Hardy is a bit pleased about this in spite of himself. "Well, in that case…" He's not entirely sure if he should be eating pancakes- are they heart healthy?- but this is something to enjoy with his daughter and he's not going to question it.

Daisy rolls her eyes and takes another bite.

Now that Daisy's got food and appears to be in a good mood, he thinks with some trepidation that it's time to do some parenting. "Daisy, about last night..." He's awkward, casting about for the right words to say. "Er."

"What about it?" She's immediately closed off again.

When he speaks, it's very gently but direct, and he keeps his gaze on her face. "I think… We need to make things very clear." He sets his fork down with a clink, careful and deliberate.

She crosses her arms and taps her foot, waiting impatiently for him to spit it out. "Make _what_ things very clear?" It's not like he's been very clear with her over the last few years, so she's not sure why he's looking at her like _she's_ in trouble. She's got the sinking feeling that the weekend will no longer be as carefree as it has been, even if thusfar it's only been light on the surface.

"Erm..." He glances away for a second because he knows this may be touchy. "I think you need to apologise. To Laurel." He looks back at her, very even. "If it weren't for her, I could still be in a hospital bed. I would- still be, I have no doubt, or I'd be back there."

Daisy immediately rolls her eyes. "Why should I apologize to her? I didn't even _say_ anything to her." The hospital thing feels a bit like a guilt trip, and while she _is_ glad he's home and recovered, she doesn't appreciate his phrasing.

Hardy quirks eyebrow because Daisy has to know that's not true. "This is a matter of learning to take responsibility, Daisy."

"Responsibility!?" Daisy snaps, suddenly sitting up to lean forward and glare at him. "Oh, that's _rich_ , Dad, you're one to talk about _responsibility_. I'll take it when you do."

Stony-faced, he takes a deep breath. He can't trust himself to try to argue this… He doesn't want to accidentally imply anything or lose it. "Daisy... This isn't about me. Not at all."

Daisy slams her fork down on the table, realizing suddenly that she's been clenching it in her fist. "No, it's never bloody about you, is it, Dad?" It's completely ridiculous that he thinks she's done anything wrong at all, but _God_ , he's being hypocritical right now.

He leans back, quiet for a moment. _Shit_. "-that's not what I meant."

"Of course not. No, you never say what you mean. You don't know how to talk to someone who's not a damn suspect!"

" _Daisy_ , come on..." His expression is pained, begging her to stop.

"You know what, Dad? _No_." The floodgates have been opened and she can't stop now. "I've kept my mouth shut for _three years_. Three years! And you haven't said a fucking word of substance since then… so _no_ , I'm not going to 'come on.' You want me to own up to my mistakes? _Own up to yours._ "

" _Daisy_ \- please- I know you're upset, but-" Alarmed, angry, and above all afraid, his Scottish accent comes out in full force. He straightens and pokes the table, trying to control his tone. "I am your _father_ , and I will not be spoken to like this. Your mother and I have worked out a way to live with our- situation, and you need to respect that. What happened, happened. Alright?"

"And it's _our_ decision as _your parents_ , who _both_ want what's best for you, not to tell you the whole story. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is; you know all you need to know about it. You need to respect both of us on our decision for your sake."

For a moment, Daisy actually sees red, she's so angry. "Some father _you've_ been," she snarls. "Why should I care how you want to be spoken to? You lost that right when you _left._ "

"You don't get to decide I don't need to know something that affects me. I'm not a _child_ anymore, or did you forget to bloody notice that when you moved three hours away from home?"

"You haven't earned any _respect_!" She leaps to her feet, fists clenched. The whole street can probably hear her- the last word, at least, was yelled- but she doesn't care in the least. Let his damn neighbors talk. He deserves it anyway. "Yeah, Mum lies to me, too, but at least she does it to my face and not over the phone! At least she's _there_!"

Extremely torn and unable to look at her, he lets his daughter yell herself out, forcing himself to look at her and biting his tongue… as painful as that is. _Please_ , Daisy.

"Tell me, Dad. _What happened_!? Why did you leave? Were we not good enough for you? Did you want to be free to hook up with your nurse?" She knows that's not the case, at least not the last bit, but she's so hurt that she's throwing it in his face to hurt him, too.

"...No, I..." He shuts his mouth very tightly, and looks at her with an expression of apology. Even if he had more to say, even if he could allow himself to tell her the truth, his throat has closed up and he can't speak.

"Then _WHAT WAS IT_!?" She feels furious tears spring to her eyes. "Just admit it, Dad. You cheated on Mum. You wanted to find a new woman who didn't come with- with some inconvenient _daughter_. You wanted to run away from us."

"That case was just a bloody excuse. You fucked up that, so why not keep going? Tell me I'm wrong." It's undeniably a challenge, one he can't meet.

"I'm sorry," he says hoarsely, his voice broken.

" _Answer me_!" The tears spill over. "You did, didn't you? You cheated. Oh, God, you absolute _bastard_." She feels sick and can't bring herself to look at him. It's something Mum has always hinted at, but Daisy _never_ wanted it confirmed.

"Daisy... I'm sorry… I love you both, I-" he swallows. "...didn't mean..." He's so close to breaking down it, aware that he's losing her. He feels weak, his throat aching and a pain blossoming in his chest that he hasn't felt since before his operation.

"DON'T SAY THAT!" Daisy roars. "You _don't_!" Suddenly, she is overwhelmed with the need to _leave._ Get out, run away, fall into her mother's arms and never look at her father's face again. Shaking her head, she backs away. "I'm leaving. Don't try to stop me… and don't ever call me again."

She turns around and marches back in the house to gather her things. Once she's gone, she'll call Mum, or get a taxi, or _something_ … but she can't stay here any longer.

"Daisy, no- no!" He gets up to follow her, but he keeps a little distance, not wanting to make things worse. "Daisy!" He can't stop her, but he can't let her leave.

Hardy is soundly ignored. She throws things into her knapsack and slings it on her back, kicking the bed for good measure as she passes it. To think, he tried to make her feel so _welcome_ here! He probably just feels guilty about the way he's screwed her over.

"Daisy, _please_ , wait- just- _please_. I- can't explain- everything, but..." He feels himself growing pale… This is surreal. " _Daisy_!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Ignoring him, Daisy pushes out the door and back outside. Completely done with him, she starts down the narrow street and doesn't look back.

It's time to move on.


	4. Chapter 4

Hardy follows Daisy out into the street and watches her go, feeling totally numb and unable to breathe correctly… For once, it doesn't bother him. Panicking, he calls Ellie.

* * *

Daisy follows the winding road back toward the center of town, thinking she'll find a taxi there.

Soon enough, she's out of sight of the house and she can breathe a little easier.

It takes her some 20 minutes to reach the very center of town. She's just passing a hotel when the tears streaming down her cheeks obscure her vision enough that she doesn't see the man exiting a building in front of her, and she runs straight into him.

"-woah! Oh my god, sorry- I'm sorry, there-" Luckily Olly's not got his usual stack of papers to run right now, but he did exit a little too quickly. He always exits too fast, always onto the next place. "Hi! Sorry. Oh, um..." Looks at her a little funny. "Are you all right...?" Clearly she's not, but... _Politeness_ , Olly. "You seem to be, er- crying. Are you lost?"

She looks a bit young. Not from here. The tiniest bit familiar... He's good with faces. Almost as good with names.

Daisy waits til he's done, swiping intermittently at her cheeks and feeling very unimpressed with this introduction and this whole stupid town. "I'm not _lost_ ," she snaps. She should probably dial back the attitude a little. After all, it was probably her fault that they collided. She's still so _angry_ , though, and she's ready to fight.

"No, I'm not alright, either, _clearly._ " Too late. The attitude is in full force. Her tone is scathing.

"Oh- okay. Sorry. Right, of course not." Olly's torn between slight amusement at how badly this is going for him and quelling his own questions so he can try to help her.

"You want to know what's wrong? I've got a _shit_ father, a lying, cheating arsewipe of a man. Tall, skinny, grumpy, ugly beard, penchant for lying, you've probably met him, answers to the name of Alec fucking Hardy." She feels the sudden urge to drag her father's name through the mud. Let someone else know what he's done, because she can't keep it to herself.

She's got his full attention at this news on Hardy. At first he doesn't believe what he's hearing, but he's always listening. His eyes grow very round.

"Wait, wait- you're talking about _DI_ Alec Hardy? The one - _the_ DI? Oh my god." He quickly swallows his eagerness. "-I'm so sorry. Really? Um... You're his daughter. _You're_ his daughter-?! Can I ask, if you don't mind, what's your name?"

Daisy rolls her eyes... As if she has time for this. "How many Alec Hardys are walking around this damn town? _Yes_ , I mean the DI."

"-right. Of course."

"God, you're _thick_. If he's my father and I'm female- yes and yes- then obviously I'm his daughter. Daisy. My name is Daisy Hardy." What a shit last name to be saddled with.

"Daisy. Of course. Sorry, Daisy..." Thinking more deeply about what she said, exactly, he frowns a little. "Did- what happened?" He's all ears, of course, his eyes wide and his hand itching for a pencil.

"What do you think happened? Weren't you listening? He cheated on my Mum and he's only just now admitting to it. I'm _done_ with him."

"...I thought he was divorced," Olly says carefully.

"He _is_. This was three years ago, keep up. He's divorced _because_ of this shit." If nothing else, the questioning is making her angrier.

"Oh, _shit_..." He murmurs to himself, staring at her. "Daisy..."

" _What_?"

"...you don't know?"

"Know _what_?" She wants to add a derisive snort of his name at the end of that, but she doesn't actually _know_ his name.

Olly's a little pale, waffling on what the right thing to do here is. He doesn't usually mind toeing the line- okay, sometimes stepping over boundaries completely- but… This seems like a big story, and big stories are what he lives for. "Oh my god, _Daisy_ , you _don't know_..." He blinks at her.

"Who're you, again?" she demands.

"Oh- um, I'm Oliver. Olly Stevens..." Chewing on his cheek for a second, he weighs his options. "Come on. You have to know, come with me." Decision made, he nods towards the direction he was originally heading in. Gently touching her shoulder, he starts off urgently. "Your dad's gonna kill me for this. So's everyone. Everyone is."

Daisy groans. She should just walk away. Instead, she scurries behind him. "Alright, _Olly_ , why don't you say whatever it is you want to say or tell me where I can find a taxi?" She likes the "your dad" comment, though. If it'll anger her father, she's ready to try it. She wants to hurt him like she's been hurt.

"Because you're not going to believe me. I can tell." Olly's shaking his head as he walks.

"Believe you about what? Stevens, tell me what you're on about or piss off."

He pauses at the office door, thinking that she genuinely is her father's daughter. "You wouldn't still be following me if you didn't think I had something _good_." He raises his eyebrows, a little grim.

"Okay, but _what is it_?"

Instead of answering, he disappears inside.

She's not going to deny that she's intrigued, but she's also annoyed. Highly.

Maggie's busy inside, stuffing a stack of paper into a shoulder bag. "Just closin' up, Olly; go on, get your things before I lock you- Olly? Olly! Who's-?" She watches him go right by, more or less ignoring her. "Sorry, we're closed...?"

Daisy blinks at the woman and shrugs. "Don't look at me. 'M followin' Olly. _Appparently_ , he has something to show me."

Olly shakes his head. "Maggie..." He pulls up to a computer and starts logging in. Daisy rolls her eyes and goes to stand behind the computer, too, so she can watch what he's doing.

"What-? You can't just _waltz_ in here-"

Olly interrupts her. "Maggie," he murmurs slightly distracted, "this is Daisy, DI Alec Hardy's daughter." The computer, of course, is taking forever to load.

"Why is that so bloody important?" Daisy demands, frustrated.

" _What?_ " Maggie speaks over Daisy. "Oh, Olly, _you can't."_

"If you're gonna try to show me that he's a wanker, don't bother. I already know." Daisy feels as if she's more or less talking to herself at this point because it seems like no one is listening.

They both look at her, wearing similar expressions- calculating, maybe a little wary. She does _not_ like being looked at like a zoo animal.

"Well, that's not news," Maggie finally mutters.

Daisy lets a slight grin slide to her face. "Okay, then, what is?"

Maggie freezes, torn over whether or not to stop Olly- it doesn't matter, because Olly has already decided for himself. "We interviewed your father," he says slowly.

Daisy's half smile slides away. "Why? About the cases he's screwed up?"

"...not exactly," Maggie says quietly, moving to watch behind Olly and biting her knuckles.

Olly shakes his head. "Well- we got him to agree to come in. Tell us _his_ side of the story." He looks up at her, his gaze just a little pointed.

"What story?" Why is he being so vague? Daisy's so irritated. "Will somebody tell me what's going on!?"

"Pretend I'm not here right now," Maggie mutters.

" _I'm_ about to not be here right now," Daisy mutters, too.

Olly turns to Maggie. "I should do it, then?" Both of the adults turn to look at Daisy, much to her annoyance.

"Daisy... What we're about to show you..." Olly starts hesitantly. "Technically, we can't. What we're doing goes directly against what we promised."

Maggie frowns. "...and we've been doing a bloody good job keeping our promises, now, _haven't we_ , Olly?" She feels like a bloody traitor, but in a way, she's glad about it. The kid deserves to know the truth.

"Show it to me or don't, but if you don't do it /now/, I'm leaving," Daisy snaps. "I've got a taxi to catch. I never want to see my stupid father or this stupid town again."

Olly takes a deep breath. "Okay..." Before he can second-guess himself again, he hits play on the DI Hardy interview.

Daisy freezes as she watches her father show up on the screen, and she feels like she's in a trance as he starts to talk. As it rolls on, her face goes from a frown to a mask of disbelief. She shakes her head. "No. He didn't... He wouldn't... He- he-"

Both reporters end up watching Daisy herself instead of the film, gauging her reaction.

She's struggling. Somehow, the confession on the video seems incredibly genuine. She's not sure if it's the pained look on her father's face- the same he wore when she yelled at him- or the fact that he would have nothing to gain from telling this story if it wasn't true since they apparently never did anything with it, but she sort of believes him. She swallows, feeling trapped and shaky again, and decides that she needs to talk to him _now._ The truth needs to come out.

There's a beat of silence after the clip stops… Olly and Maggie are waiting for Daisy to say something, do something.

She starts backing away, her eyes flitting between the other two.

Maggie sighs; she can't see this as being very easy. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Thanks for showing me," Daisy murmurs, attitude gone. "I've got to go talk to- I've got to go." She bumps into a desk and startles, causing Olly to jump at the noise.

Maggie nods, shooting Olly a look.

Daisy shakes her head and looks at them one last time before turning around and almost jogging out the door. It's time to go back to Dad's house now; she doesn't even want to think about Mum's.

Maggie and Olly stare at each other for a few seconds after the girl's abrupt departure. "...was it the right thing?" Olly asks softly.

Maggie nods firmly. "Yes. Yes, it was. That girl deserves the truth. And I think our DI does, this time, too… Even if he _is_ an ass."

* * *

It takes Daisy far less time to get to Dad's cottage than it did to get to town because she spends most of the journey at a jog. She's got so much emotion to run off. She slows to a walk as soon as the house comes into sight, however, looking for her father.

He's out by the water, having just gotten off the phone with Ellie. She wanted to come over, but he snapped at her until she backed off. He's feeling a little dead inside, still finding himself unable to be bothered about the numbness, totally defeated.

Daisy sees him before he sees her. "Tell me the truth," she says in a very tired voice, not bothering to announce herself.

He leaps to his feet, slightly wheezy. "Daisy!"

"No more lies, Dad. I already know what happened, but I need you to tell me yourself. Don't bother trying to avoid it. _I already know._ "

He steadies self by leaning on the table.

"What happened between you and Mum? And that case?"

"Dais'..." he murmurs, helpless. "...I can't. I promised your mother… We don't want you knowing this."

" _Tell me._ " She's getting angrier again. "I already know! Or did you miss that?"

" _Please_ \- trust us..."

She shakes her head. "Right now, I can't trust either of you."

He tries to say something, changes his mind, closes his mouth, guilty. "...I know." So very guilty.

"This is your one chance, Dad. I'm done being lied to and 'protected.'"

"I know, and I'm so sorry, Daisy..." he tries, watching her with wide eyes and a racing heart.

"Tell me _now_ in your own words or I will leave this place and never come back. Won't go home, either. Neither of you will ever see me again." Of course, she has no idea of where she'll go, but she'll do it somehow. She'll find a place, she's determined.

He gives her a little bit of a look- that's absurd, love- but he gets her point anyway and shakily draws up a chair, unsure of how to begin. "Erm…"

She glares and _waits_. She's been waiting for this for entirely too long already.

Looking away, he rubs a hand over his distantly horrified face. "Oh, Daisy..." She's too young to be hurt like this. "We- we lost the evidence… The final piece. You know."

"We?"

"Er..."

"Do _not_ lie to me," she repeats.

He swallows thickly and closes his eyes for a moment, because his voice is shaky, too. "Y-your... mother. She lost it."

"And how did that happen?" Her tone is unsurprised but she needs to hear this straight from him.

He gives her a look that's part questioning, part surprised. Someone has to have told her, but he's not sure who or _why_.

"Dad?" He's been quiet for too long.

"...someone broke into her car." He says dryly, collecting himself.

"And where _was_ her car?" Is she going to have to pry every bit of this from him?

"She..." He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut. "She stopped at a hotel, Daisy."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because she was having an affair." He finally looks at her again.

Daisy nods.

Hardy looks aside again. "and she thought..." Why does his voice keep cracking?

"And did you know about this?"

He shakes his head, remembering the double blow of finding out about the affair and having to deal with the lost evidence. "...no." He's more composed now, staring at her, but he's very stiff. He never thought he'd be having this conversation with her.

That's one question that the video didn't answer, so Daisy's glad he told her. "So why did you tell everyone that _you_ lost the evidence?"

There's a pause in which he closes his eyes, quickly has to cover face, hunches his shoulders a little, and lets his hands drop back down. "Because… because I love you, Daisy. And your mother. And I… I wanted to save our family. I thought-" his voice is halting, cracked. "Daisy, I thought we could stay together. All of us."

That's the first thing that breaks through Daisy's mask of shock and frustration. "Why didn't we? What happened?" Her voice breaks halfway the second sentence.

Hardy hesitates… "Your mother," he says finally, "didn't want to."

" _Why_?"

"We decided it was best. Well, she did... because she could, Daisy."

She can't reconcile this with her loving Mum. "And- and _why_ did she just let you take the fall?"

"Because she knew that I would do anything for her. And for you. And I couldn't bear you to know wh-" This is so hard to get out, all of it.

Daisy's heart stops for the slightest moment. All this time! All this time she's resented him, hated him, even. And now- " _Dad_..." She wants to hug him, she wants to shake him and scream, she wants to cry. It's impossible to reconcile all of those urges.

Hardy rests his head in one hand and forces himself just to look at her, afraid that he's very quickly falling apart.

"Didn't you think I deserved to know?" She's much quieter again.

He drags that hand down his face to look up at her again. " _Daisy_ … Of course you did- of course you _do_. But-"

"You've just let me think for _years_ that you- that you did what Mum did!" Daisy interrupts. "You just let me resent you for it!"

"I- I didn't want to ruin your- image of y- of your mother."

She discovers quite suddenly than she's got a massive headache pounding in her temples. "But ruining yours was okay?"

He shakes his head, silent. It's not a denial, exactly, just a gesture of defeat.

"Why... Dad, why was it so important for me to have a mother but not a father?"

"If it meant you saw her as I wished things could still be, I... I dunno…" he says softly. "I wanted to stay..." He shakes his head again. He'd tried _so hard_ to keep their family together, and in the end, he'd only made things worse.

She shakes her head, feels a wave of tears start to fall. They're the first since she started following Olly. "I can't believe you'd lie to me about something so important." But she can, really. His decisions were misguided, absolutely, but as much as she's tried not to see it for the last few years, he's always seemed to do his best by her and her mum.

A really pained smile, a bitter one, finds its way onto his face. "I can't, either. I- hated it. I hate lying to you, more than an'thin', Daisy."

She swallows and nods. "I need- I need some space. I need to think. I'm going to go for a walk."

He nods, clearing his throat. "Yeah… I'll be here."

Daisy stares at him for one last moment, torn, before fleeing much like at Olly's office. She can't even answer him right now.

* * *

She's only walked a street or two over when she slows to a stop, pulling out her mobile and fiddling with it. She stares at her Mum's contact photo and rings her only to immediately hang up half a dozen times. She badly needs to talk to her mother, but she's absolutely dreading the conversation. She's not sure she's ever felt so betrayed before by anyone.

While she's distracted, a sort-of familiar blonde comes out of the house that Daisy's standing outside of. She's wearing scrubs this time, unmistakably a nurse, and she's wearing an expression of concern.

"…Daisy?"

Daisy looks away, all of her old ire with the woman gone, and doesn't answer.

"I'm sorry, love, but are you alright?"

Daisy's eyes snap back to the woman's— Laurel's?— face in disbelief. Despite the way the fight with Dad started earlier, Daisy _does_ know she's wronged Laurel, yet here she is being nothing but kind.

"…no," Daisy answers honestly after a moment of thought. "I will be, though."

Laurel nods uncertainly. "I hope everything goes right for you," she says softly, giving the girl a small, tentative smile.

"Thanks," Daisy replied, just as softly. "Erm, Ms.— Laurel, isn't it?"

Laurel nods in encouragement.

"I— I really need to apologize for the way I acted last night. I was— I was rude and unfair and I jumped to conclusions and I really shouldn't have. And you didn't deserve it."

Laurel's face instantly clears of worry, and her smile is wider this time. "Oh, don't worry about it at all. I understand. It must have looked strange, and it had to have been a shock. I probably would have reacted the same way… It's lovely of you to say you're sorry, though. I appreciate it. Honestly, you didn't say or do anything unforgivable."

Daisy thinks from this little speech that Laurel would /not/ have reacted as with as much volatility as Daisy herself did, but it's nice to hear all the same. She doesn't quite know how to respond to Laurel's kindness, though, and she swallows, her head tilting uncertainly. "Er, thanks for that," she replies, an odd note of shyness in her voice.

Laurel nods. "Hope you're having a great visit with your dad, despite the awkward start."

Daisy's _not_ , but she doesn't need to burden Laurel with that information. Instead, she pastes on a slightly brittle smile. "I am, thank you. I should— I should get going, though."

"Of course!" Laurel says. "It was nice to meet you under better circumstances."

"Likewise," Daisy replies, still slightly flummoxed, and gives Laurel a tiny wave before starting to walk again.

* * *

It's more than an hour and a half later that she wonders back to the cottage. She feels the slightest bit more at peace, though it'll take a long time for her to truly come to terms with what has happened. She lets herself into the house, not seeing Dad outside, and finds him in the kitchen. "Was it worth it, or do you regret it?" she asks quietly by way of greeting.

Startled, he jumps a little- she's so quiet!- and then goes back to making tea, glad he's got something to be doing with his hands. He keeps quiet for a little while, trying to decide how to answer. "Don't know that I had much of a choice. I couldn't accept it...still don't want to."

Daisy sighs. "That's not really an answer."

Hardy grunts, because, well… She's not wrong. He just doesn't know what to say.

"Dad..." She's so, so tired.

"Hm?" He stops what he's doing to look at her, and she supposes she's gotten all of the answer she's going to. "...what exactly are you referring to?" he asks after a slight pause.

"Taking the blame for everything," she answers. "In the papers, to me..."

"Well… I regret having to lie to you, yes. The rest I could do again, though. Don' matter to me what the rest of the world thinks."

Her lip trembles. She's long since stopped crying, but he's really doing her in today.

He's already turning back to the tea, awkward, but when he catches her look, he stops again.

As soon as the first tear falls, she's darting forward, pressing against him in a tight hug and sobbing, narrowly avoiding being scalded by hot tea.

Hardy quickly sets the mug down and hugs her as tightly as he possibly can without fear of crushing her at all. He's crying, too, he discovers, and the realization makes him hold on more tightly. Just holding her again- especially with her sincerest of hugs- is breaking his heart in the best way he can imagine. He thinks of nothing else.

He hadn't been sure he'd ever find her love again and he cannot get enough of it; he bows his head a little because the longing to connect with her and just be around her has been so great for so long. No one will ever matter to him as much as his precious girl.

His joy is a little tempered because he's also weighed by guilt, however. It's a weird mix.

Daisy, on her ened, is so very heartbroken. The lies sting, of course they do, and she has no idea what to do about her mother, but there's so much _lost time_ here. She doesn't bother to avoid wetting his shirt with her tears. Instead, she cries until she's numb and weak and sagging against him. She's 15, nearly a woman, but tonight... She feels like a child, so small and so _very_ fragile.

Once she's cried herself out, she gives up on trying to support herself. She's still standing, barely, but her knees are weak; she knows that for the first time in a long while, Dad's got her and she's not going to fall. "Sorry for everything I said," she mumbles into his shirt. "Didn't know."

He chokes out a kind of sob-laugh in reply. "Just as I'd hoped. There's nothing to be sorry about, love. It's alright… Everything's alright." He's more than happy to support her weight, though he's none too strong in the knees, either.

There are _lots_ of things to be sorry for, but for once, Daisy's ready to just let it go. "I have something to admit..." she starts hesitantly.

"Hm...?" He's got to clear his throat.

"I, um, I did what you wanted me to do."

Hardy quirks an eyebrow, waiting for elaboration.

"I 'took responsibility,'" she quotes dutifully.

A weak laugh escapes him at that. "This isn't yours to bear, darling… Your mum and I... We made some mistakes, but we did one thing right... You know what I mean."

She has the tiniest smile on her face because she knows exactly what he's talking about. "I shouldn't have yelled at you and I _am_ sorry for that, but that's not what I'm talking about. While I was out walking, I mean, I ran into Laurel. And I told her I was sorry, like you wanted me to."

He looks down at her, his eyes widening a little in surprise. "You did..?"

She nods. "Mhm. She was very nice about it."

He's got a weak smile on his face that seems to be growing a bit. "Oh. She is a bit too nice." He makes a face, laughing a little.

Daisy laughs because, well, she _is_ his child. "She said it was fine, that she understood, that she hoped we were having a good weekend despite the awkward start. I didn't tell her that we weren't."

Chuckling, he rests chin on top of her head and sighs, very low and quiet and long. His eyes fall shut. "I am so proud of you." It's mostly whispered.

Daisy's instinct here is to make a flippant comment, but for once, she doesn't. "Thank you," she says, almost as softly, and changes the subject after a small pause. "Mm, Dad?"

He places a hand very gently on the back of her head and a quick kiss on top. "Mm?"

"I don't... I don't know how to talk to Mum about all of this." Her voice is small, and for the second time, she feels younger than usual.

"Yeah… We'll need to discuss this, I don't..." He shakes his head. "I never planned for… I mean." There's ice in the pit of his stomach.

"No, please don't interfere. _I_ need to talk to her. But- she's just not the person I thought she was."

"I'm sorry," he says hoarsely, feeling inadequate. There's nothing he can say to help ease her suffering and that kills him a little. "...that, I can agree on."

"I don't think I can look her in the eye and not- not get upset. All this time, I thought you did all of these things that she actually did, but Dad... This is so much worse. Because she did those things _and_ drove you away." Her small voice gets smaller. "I hated you for leaving. And that's not fair at all."

It takes some effort to swallow past the lump in his throat. "I wish I had the answers to these things," he says softly, "because you're right, it's not fair... But we'll just have to do our very best, as we must. Neither of us are- we're not alone, Daisy." He squeezes her a little. "I- I don't pretend to understand all that went through your mother's head, or why, but- these things happened. She made some choices..."

Daisy sniffles and nods. He's mostly speaking in platitudes and it shouldn't really comfort her, but it does. "Do you still love her? Mum, I mean?" she asks in a whisper. She's not sure which answer she's hoping for, which one is easier.

The first time he tries to answer, nothing happens. The second time he manages a scratchy little "yes."

She knows as soon as he answers that it would have been easier if he'd said no. "Why?" she asks, her voice trembling.

He sighs a little, just tired; he's pondered the same question so many times before. "Because… because she's amazing. But something happened and I still don't know what. She didn't want it any more. I love her because she's your mother and because she was my love for all those years before any of this happened."

Daisy nods, renewed fears coming to her eyes. "But I- I needed both of you. Why-" she swallows. It's a childish question, one that can't even be answered by anyone except Mum herself, but... "Why did she want to take that away from me?"

"I don't know, darling. I really, really don't know."

She tightens her hold, needs the support, physical and emotional.

He holds her close, biting back the tiniest bit of anger- not at Daisy, but at Tess.

"It would've been easier if you didn't love her anymore," she murmurs after a soft, sobby breath. "Then I could stop wishing that in spite of everything, we could still be together, all three of us."

He makes a kind of gravelly, choked sound that he doesn't quite recognize. "You told me not to lie. I try not to wish that, either..."

Daisy nods, closing her eyes. "I'm glad you told me the truth. I just wish it wasn't the truth."

"Mm," he agrees.

She's got a sudden fear, though, and she pulls back to look at him with wide eyes.

He meets her eye, concerned at the expression on her face.

"We're gonna- it's not going to be like it was before, right? You 'n me, at least, we'll be okay now, won't we? Three years isn't too much to-" she chokes, swallows, tries again. "I ignored you for three years. Are you going to- are you still going to call now? I want you to now that I understand, I swear. I'll stop letting you go to the answer phone. Just don't stop calling, _please._ "

Looks down at her with a definite- but very sad- smile. His little laugh is more of a sob. " _No_ , no, oh, sweetheart. I never planned to stop calling, never in a million years... That's not going to change now. You'll get annoyed with me again quickly- quickly enough, I _promise_."

The only real answer Daisy can give is a renewed sob and a fresh hug. Oh, she can't believe she's spent so much time hating him. All of this crying is exhausting her and this hug only lasts for a second before she pulls away again. "Okay," she says softly. "I'm so glad." She wants to apologize again for rejecting all of his calls, but she knows what he'll say about it. "I think I'm about ready to go to bed, but tomorrow, I'd like it if we could spend some time getting to know each other again?" It comes out as a question, shy, somehow, but definitely hopeful.

He's absolutely full of sad smiles and gentle touches and he loves her so, so much, so much that it hurts. "Oh, yes. I would love that, Daisy." He nods once, softly, feeling like they're treading new territory. Good territory.

Daisy nods back, giving him a trembly but genuine smile. She squeezes him a final time before pulling away, intending to head for the loo but wobbling a bit. She's _exhausted_. Crying is more tiring than anything else and she's done a lot of it today.

He watches her go before fixing up the kitchen and sipping at his tea. It's cold now, but he could use it at the moment anyway- at least it's for a better reason now. He intends to head straight to bed, too, sure that he's going to have a decent night's sleep for once.

Daisy goes through her nightly beauty routine, and when she's done, she heads to her bedroom and shuts the door behind her. She pushes it back open on a second thought, though, and pokes her head through the gap. "Good night, Dad. I love you."

He peeks out of the kitchen to look at her. "Good night, darling. I love you, too," he says softly.

She smiles at him and closes the door back on her way to bed.

He washes his mug and ambles toward his own bed, wearing one of those smiles again, the kind only she can coax out. This is the start of something new.


	5. Chapter 5

Daisy sends her mum a text on the last day of her visit to Dad's. _Dad is driving me home. You don't have to fetch me. See you this afternoon._

Okay, so maybe she shouldn't tell her mum this when she doesn't know yet if her dad _will_ drive her, but she can't bear to sit for three hours next to her mother with no possibility of escape.

So, she'll just hope that Dad says yes. Otherwise, she'll have to find a new way home. "Hey, Dad?" she asks, poking her head out of her room.

"Mm?" Hardy glances up at her with a smile, putting aside the work he's been doing while waiting for her to wake up.

"Er, I know it's a long way, but... do you think you could drive me home today?" Daisy fiddles with her phone as she talks, nervous.

He blinks at her for a moment before nodding. "Oh, um. Yeah. Yeah, sure I could. Have you spoken to...?"

"No. No, I thought I'd wait til I got home. Doesn't seem like the sort of talk to have on my mobile."

"Right. No, not at all, but - maybe let her know I'll be driving? I'd be happy to do that. Any time today."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll let her know," Daisy agrees, trying not to sound guilty. "I guess it should be soon, because I do have school tomorrow… but I don't want to leave."

Hardy can't stop a faint half-smile from rising to his lips because he never thought he'd hear that from her. It's just a flicker, though, and he nods, knowing this is hard for her. "Well… I'm so glad you came, Daisy. Thank you."

"Me, too. Is it okay if I come visit again soon?"

He rises from behind the piles of cases, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Yes. An'time. Like i said... you've got a place here, if you want."

"It's not just that I want to avoid Mum... I like spending time with you. Missed it more than I remembered."

He's wearing this pained sort of smile, has been all weekend.

She gives him a small smile. "Careful there, mate. Might find yourself with a new roommate."

The half smile grows a bit. "Dunno if I could handle it," he murmurs, clearly joking… and wishing desperately that they _could_ live together again. "Missed you too, you know. It had been a while."

Daisy forces the smile off of her face and has to fight not to let it creep back. "I think I'm just about old enough for my own place, so maybe you'll just have to come visit _me_ , if it's too much for you." She tries not to let the guilt bubble up in her chest, because it's her fault that it's been a while. She's been the one pushing him away.

Her dad laughs a little. "I'll bring fruit cake and we'll not talk about how awful it is." He catches himself daydreaming about the future a little, just watching Daisy affectionately. He's looking forward to it, and that's such a nice change.

"Oh, you're coming for Christmas then?" She gives up and lets the grin bloom on her cheeks.

"Every year," he confirms, grinning back.

"You're only invited if you bring expensive presents and help decorate. Deal?"

"You mean like peonies in winter? It's a deal."

This feels like a second chance and Daisy's determined to make use of it. She may be going home by necessity, but she won't let this newfound relationship die. She's decided. "Suppose I'll set you a place at the table then, detective."

Glancing back at the room she's just emerged from, she sighs and her smile wavers then falls. "Guess I'm going to go pack, then."

This is a second chance, indeed, Hardy thinks. But it's always going to be in the balance. He's clinging to every moment like it's going to be the last - he's hopeful it won't be, confident, even - but things have been so unpredictable that he's not letting a moment go by unappreciated. She's here. She's here and she wants to be, and she'll probably be coming back. Again and again, more often... she wants to come back and see him. It's a gift, even if it comes at a steep price.

He smiles about that and nods, neutral again. "Need a hand, or all set?"

"I think I've got it. Be out in a mo'."

"A'righ'." He gets ready to go himself, set for whenever Daisy wants to go. He'd set aside most of the weekend for her, just working on loose ends in the Sandbrook case in odd moments.

Daisy, meanwhile, trudges back to the bedroom and repacks her bag. It doesn't take very long- she didn't bring much- and within a few minutes she's standing in the main part of the cottage again. "Alright. Ready?" she asks, trying and failing not to sound glum.

Hardy takes a deep breath and nods, gives her another little smile. "Off we go, Cap'n." He throws on his coat, snatches up his keys.

Daisy hitches her bag higher on her shoulder and follows. Time to face the music.

"Right..." He locks up the house behind them and settles in the car.

Daisy slides into the passenger seat and glances up at the little blue house one last time. "Bye, Broadchurch," she mumbles, unintentionally thinking out loud.

Then they're off... long, empty, winding roads along the coast for a while. There's a silence- maybe a little heavy as they both think about Tess, but it's a companionable silence all the same.

Finally, Daisy speaks up. "When we get there, don't come in, okay? I'd rather talk to her with you not around."

Hardy nods quickly- "Mm." He's relieved; things with Tess are always a bit tense, and they're sure to be more so after she and Daisy talk. "I'd prefer that too, quite frankly..." he says, grim, and glances at her. "I don't think it'd go well for us to meet, right now."

"Yeah, maybe not. Thanks." She's quieter than usual, too. "I'll call you afterward to tell you how it went. And- well, knowing Mum, she'll probably call you, too, to chew you out. Not that you need the warning, probably, but..."

"Well… I'll leave that up to you, darling. Don't feel - obligated to report back, but..." He's a little uncomfortable, unsure of how much of a role she wants him to play.

"Think I might need someone to talk to about it anyway." She's mumbling, soft and sad, looking out the window instead of at him. "If that's okay."

He swallows, hating the pain in her voice. "Yes." Glances at her again. "Of course. Please do. If you - if it'll help." He just doesn't want to push anything.

"I think it will. I- everything's upside down now, isn't it? But you're here, too. And I'm afraid that at Mum's house, especially after I talk to her... I'm afraid that I'll feel-" She can't articulate how she's feeling. Alone. She doesn't want to feel alone.

He nods quickly. "Yes. Call anytime; really. I'll always pick it up. And if I can't, I'll call you right back."

"Thanks, Dad." She means it.

"Of course, darling." He's changing lanes or he'd look at her again.

She falls quiet and pulls her knees up to her chest. Doesn't want to do this. She stays like that, silent and scrunched up, until they're nearly there.

Hardy's quiet, too, following her lead… he doesn't know what to say anyway. He feels like he should talk her through this, but what is there to say? Tess isn't going to be happy and they both know that. He just feels achey for her and he's anxious for her to go ahead and talk with her mum.

Daisy feels dread gathering in the pit of her stomach when they turn onto her street... same house she's lived in since she was born. Dad used to live there, too.

He pulls to a stop in front of the house, and looks at it for a good minute, giving Daisy a little privacy to collect herself without being watched. "Here we are…"

"Thanks for this weekend," she says quietly.

He nods, his heart in his throat.

She reaches across the console to give him a tight hug, gathering strength as much as showing affection.

"Good luck..." he says softly, returning her hug and savouring it. "You can do this..." One more tight squeeze.

"Thank you. I- thank you." She's not so sure she can.

Hardy takes a deep breath and kisses the side of her face. "You're strong."

"Am I?" She's not. She feels so young.

"I think so. Should I call you later?" he murmurs with a half smile.

"Oh, _please_ do."

He nods. It's decided. She pulls away, taking a deep breath.

"I'll do that, then."

"Talk to you in a while, then," she agrees. "I love you. A lot."

Dad squeezes her shoulder a little, just looking at her, and nods. "Love you too, Daisy..."

He forces himself to smile more. "'Bye. Talk to you then."

Trembling slightly, Daisy nods and climbs out of the car. She gives him a last little wave and a sad half-smile before going up the garden and letting herself into the house.

Hardy waves, too, his expression much the same as hers... and drives off.

* * *

So: Ellie's not sure which to bring, red? white? dry? sweet? Bordeaux or the champagne? It's a wine night, so she brings a few to sample and share. Old things she and... she and Joe got as gifts over the years. Well, to hell with it, time to crack them all open. She's surprised to find she's a little nervous - but it's the good kind. The excited kind. She's been invited for a quiet girls' night at Laurel's.

It's been ages since she's been over to anyone's house (aside from Hardy's - but he hardly counts), and _years_ since she's schmoozed without Joe around. It makes her feel like she's in her twenties again, and it's a little refreshing. Nicely enough, everything's so close by - so it's only an 8 minute walk with the stuff tucked under her arm.

She doesn't even have the bitter luck of running into anyone she'd rather not run into, right now.

It's a sign. She knocks on the door, "Hellooooo!"

Laurel has just finished decorating a cheese plate when she hears Ellie knock. She grins and does a little hop-skip motion to get to the door. She's been excited for this ever since they first talked about it... Maybe she needed a friend more than she thought.

At any rate, she's thrilled to have Ellie over, and she knows this'll be exactly the thing to relax them both. "Hi, Ellie!" she says happily, opening the door to let her in. "Oh, what have you got there?" She's already got several varieties decanting herself. No way they'll drink all of this tonight, but she hopes that if it goes well they'll be able to do it again later.

"Hiiii, Laurel!" Ellie beams, and steps in. "Oh-! Just a thing or two," she shrugs. "Couldn't decide what to bring over, so I brought them all." Whoops? Overprepared. "Shall I put these somewhere?"

"Oh, here, let me take some." Laurel grins and holds her hands out; Ellie happily hands a few of the bottles over. "That sounds like the perfect idea, honestly, can't wait to try everything! I've got a bunch, too."

"Bit of everything, really. Figured we couldn't go wrong." Ellie grins. "What've you got?"

Laurel leads the way toward her kitchen- the nicest part of her house by far- and puts the bottles of white in the fridge. She shows her small collection off to Ellie. "A bit of everything, just like you!" She laughs when she gets to the reds. "Mm, we even have the same bottle of Pinot noir."

Elloe follows, kind of gawking. Laurel's house is lovely, all cosy and tastefully decorated… not a thing out of place. "Fine place you've got here- oh, wow!" she says, beaming. "It's so _clean_ and nice...!"

"Oh, _thank you_!" Laurel's been working on the house on her off days since she moved in, and she hasn't had a single person over since then. "You're so kind. It's really lovely to have you over!" She beams back.

"Aw, well... I'm so glad to be here!"

"Ready for a glass of something?"

" _Yes_ , thank you, I am _so_ ready." It's been a long day.

"Ah, me, as well!" Laurel's grin turns the slightest bit mischievous. "Actually, before we start pouring, though... I got you a bit of a present."

Ellie's eyebrows go up. " _Really_? You _did_? Why on earth would you think that's a good idea?" She's already a touch giggly, high on the feeling of being relaxed and kid-free for a night.

Laurel, meanwhile, turns to dig in her cabinets, looking for- aha! A painted wineglass, decorated with lines corresponding to "easy day," "rough day," and "don't even ask." She saw it at a market the other day and it immediately made her think of tonight. She hopes Ellie gets as much of a kick out of it as she does.

"Here you are!" She presents it with a flourish.

"Oh my _god!_ " Ellie laughs as she holds it up to the light like it's a chalice. "This. is. _wicked_ , oh my god. Where did you find it?"

"Oh, I went to that Saturday market a few towns over! Heard some great things about it and decided to check it out this weekend. I saw this and couldn't stop myself." Her grin turns slightly smirky. "Don't think Mr. Hardy is too good at subtle signs, so maybe if he has something to read he'll stay under control a bit."

"D'you think he can /read/ that? I don't know…" She snorts gracelessly, definitely amused.

Laurel giggles. "Mmm, maybe not."

"Anyway, how'd you like the market- the one in Weymouth, right? I love that one! It's got all of the little colourful booth shades!"

"That's the one! Couldn't remember the town til you said it."

"Yes, Weymouth! See - - it's the best one 'round, you just can't get better than that one around here, although..." Ellie lowers her voice as if divulging a great secret. "There're some good hidden ones, too, I must say."

Laurel quirks an eyebrow and leans in, feeling conspiratorial. "Oh, really? I can't wait to find them!"

"Yes, bit of a treasure hunt!"

Laurel turns around and starts lining up options. "Well, what would you like to try for your inaugural drink in your new glass?"

"Mm..." Ellie watches, carefully considering all available choices, sliding along the counter with her chin in her palm and tapping her fingers.

Laurel chuckles, watching her. "Tough choice, I know. Think I'll try that pinot noir. If we _both_ got a bottle of it, it's got to be a sign."

Ellie arches her brows as if this is a very serious decision. "That's true… Can't tempt fate." She slides her glass forward and puts on a posh accent. "Might I trouble you...?"

Laurel wrinkles her nose in an excited little grin. "Right. Let's try it, then." She grabs a normal glass from the cabinet and sets it down next to the one she bought for Ellie, pouring them both a generous sample. "Of course, Madame," she replies genially in the same posh accent. She picks up her own glass, wondering if they should toast to something.

"Ah... looks like a Rough Day..." wistful sigh. "Shan't say anything more until it's gone." She makes a face and samples it.

Laurel takes a sip, following suit, and immediately pulls a face, her eyes watering. "Oh, dear," she gasps, then snorts in sudden laughter. "Okay, maybe this isn't my kind of wine." Her taste buds are burning.

Ellie gently sets hers down, too, with a watery look. "...that is strong. That - is strong. Yes." She puts on a stoic face, trying not to gag. "Mmhm."

Laurel laughs a little louder. "Strong... Yes, that's a kind word for it. I was going to go for awful."

Ellie spins the bottle around. " _Who_ made this? Honestly?" Snorting, she squints at the label. "Oh, the Germans are no good at wine. Mm."

"I love that you bought the same kind that I did. We both have poor taste, apparently." Laurel's delighted.

Laughing, Ellie shakes her head. "I'll be honest, I got it for the label. It's so deceptively nice..." She lets out a sigh.

"Ellie Miller, do you know the proper procedure to follow when presented with a less-than-preferable wine?"

Her friend quirks an eyebrow. "Suffer on through it? Or mix it with cola?"

Laurel winks. "Drink it _really_ fast and move on to the next one. If my mother taught me one thing, it'd be that."

"I'm not opposed," Ellie agrees, laughing. "Oh, I love your mother."

"If I can pull her away from Bournemouth for a weekend, I'll be sure to introduce you. Her solution isn't classy, maybe, but it's economical! No use in wasting wine." Laurel takes a larger sip and cringes but swallows it down.

"Honestly, I'd be delighted," Ellie says with a warm smile.

"On the bright side, if this kills all of our taste buds, we won't think it's that bad anymore."

"And we won't have to worry about any others' potential flaws, either!"

"I'll drink to that!" Laurel announces, holding up her glass. Ellie clinks it, taking as big of a swallow as she can stomach, determined to finish the glass.

The wine is already making Laurel's cheeks pink and rendering her pleasantly warm. "Sorry, I'm being rude here. Would you like to go sit?" She gestures to the adjoining sitting room.

Ellie nods quickly. "Think I had better, if you don't mind."

Laurel leads the way to the sofas and sits down, primly at first and then more comfortably after a second of thought. She doesn't think Ellie will mind a bit of familiarity. Then she swallows a mouth full of wine, spluttering slightly. "This reminds me of being twenty and choking down terrible mixed drinks."

Ellie sinks into sofa next to her; it's so good to not think about anything serious for once. "Oh god, doesn't it! Only now I've gotten more tolerant, I must say, if a bit stupider about it all," she adds, taking another sip.

Laurel can already feel the affects starting to hit her- Ellie's right, this one is strong. She's not complaining about _that_ at all. "Have you? 'M terribly afraid that I haven't," Laurel admits with a snort.

"Oh, yeah; there's no way I'd've gotten through this 10 years ago. Mind - maybe not even... hm. Well."

"Do you drink much that's not wine these days? As far as alcohol goes, I mean."

"Mm, not really? Sometimes. Dunno, I just like wine, I think. You?"

Laurel shakes her head. "Want to know a secret?"

Ellie shifts a little to see her better, cradling her glass. "That's why I came here, if I'm honest." She throws in a sly little wink.

Laurel throws her head back and laughs, surprised. "Well, I'm not sure if this is the juicy info you seem to be after, but it's a secret nonetheless… It's best for everyone if I stick to wine. If I drink anything stronger, or even something like beer… I turn into a terrible grump. Very serious. It's embarrassing."

"No...! Really, you're kidding, _you?_ " Ellie laughs. "I can't even imagine."

Laurel holds her wine glass up to the light and stares contemplatively at the color. "To be, or not to be," she says gravely as if she's Hamlet and the glass is a skull… It's the wrong soliloquy, but she doesn't mind much. "It's terrible! My father once handed me a glass of brandy and said 'Laurel, you're much too cheerful and I've got a headache.' Then he just walked away!"

Ellie can't help snorting at that one, and she shakes her head. "Unbelievable! Your own father…" She definitely wants to meet Laurel's family, if they're anything like Laurel's stories about them.

Laurel laughs. "Yep, he's not above drugging me."

"I'll be sure only to ever bring wine.

This brings out a snort in Laurel, too. "Probably for the best. I think you get enough grumpiness from a certain other friend of yours."

"Is it fair if I say I'm still a bigger fan of your mother?"

"Ha, she'd _love_ that! She and Dad are in constant competition. That's how my youngest sister was born. Did I tell you that there are seven of us?"

Ellie chokes a little on her wine at this information.

"Three boys, four girls. They were tied and had to have one more to see who won."

" _What?"_

Laurel shakes her head slightly. It's ridiculous even to her, but she loves her baby sister to death.

"Your family sounds-" she's got to laugh.

"They're... they're something else."

"They sound _lovely_. Are any of them near, aside from your mother?" Ellie asks, curious.

"Ah, thanks! They all live in Bournemouth, actually! I did, too, until six months ago."

"Aw, lovely! Close enough for visits, then."

"Oh, definitely. I've been back to visit a few times. It's an easy drive. What about you? Siblings around here? Parents?"

"Well… One sister - she's in town. Parents in Cardiff. Visit often enough, though."

"I wonder if I've met your sister! Not a big town, Broadchurch."

"Might've... we don't look very much alike, in my opinion. If a red-headed woman asked you for a smoke, it might've been her." Ellie's got an odd relationship with Lucy. "What brought you here, then? Six months?"

"It was the hospital! They had an opening, and it was time for a change. Broadchurch was separate but not _too_ far, and when I interviewed, I liked the small town feel."

"Ah! That's as good a reason as any! It's a beautiful place… And how are you finding it?" Despite everything that's happened, Ellie has a lot of pride in her hometown.

"I love it here, honestly. It's so quiet. Definitely just as pretty as Bournemouth, and with half the cost of living! How long've you lived here?"

"Oh, grew up around here! Parents moved away for their health, other things. Just needed more attention. Too remote, here."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that! You really _are_ a local, though." Laurel's a little extra curious because it seems like most of the people here have been here for generations.

"Aw, well." Ellie grins. "Yeah!"

"May need you to show me around a bit sometimes. I still get lost," Laurel admits.

"Oh, I'd love to. Adore this place, really..."

"My parents couldn't figure out why I wanted to come, but then again, they haven't actually visited." Laurel thinks her parents might honestly be a little frustrated with her for moving away… she's the only one of her siblings to have actually permanently left Bournemouth. They're a tight-knit family.

"Oh, they'll have to come out, then. We've got spare rooms at my place, if you need them," Ellie offers with a smile.

"That's so sweet of you to offer! If I can convince them, I might take you up on it."

"Well! You've moved straight into the heart of a tourist destination, you know!" Ellie reminds her, beaming. "You've got the water, the sand... and the hikes."

"Right you are." Laurel finishes her glass and stands up as she talks. "I'm going to try something white this time. Ready for something new yourself?"

Ellie drains the last of her glass and follows suit. "Yes. A white's a good idea, now." She makes a slight face at the awful taste of the last gulp of pinot noir.

Laurel holds her hand out for the glass. "Preferences?"

"Mm... this one, yeah? '72? ...Apparently?" Ellie's pointing out one of the bottles she brought.

"Oh, you've brought a _vintage_! I feel inadequate now. Everything I've bought was from the Asda this week." In other company, that might bother her. Not now, though.

Ellie laughs. "You know, we - uh, _I_ got this a while back..." She doesn't want to talk about Joe. "It's been sitting there for ages." Flatly. "It needs to go."

Laurel wriggles her eyebrows, not commenting on the implication that Ellie seems to be trying to avoid anyway. "You can admit it, Ellie. You were waiting til you had an attractive blonde to impress." She's feeling increasingly carefree and pleasantly lightheaded and it's making her a bit silly.

Ellie twists a coy expression onto her face. "Oh, how did you know…?" she asks, giggling a little and placing her palm on the side of her face in an "oh dear" type expression..

Laurel laughs and pours the wine again. "Alright, here's to hoping this one's better than the last." She holds her glass up and offers Ellie's back to her.

"Cheers. You know, it's a good thing you're pourin'-" Ellie remarks, watching the stream. "I once tried it and got it all over my friends' shoe… I mean - I've done it loads, but half the time it ends up somewhere it shouldn't. Haven't got a very good aim, I guess- that, or I suppose I'm easily distracted."

The image makes Laurel laugh. "My mum is quite the wine enthusiast. She made she I was properly versed in things like this."

"More things I love 'bout your mum."

"Easily distracted makes sense when you've got 1,000 things pulling you in different directions all at once."

Ellie shrugs a little- not denying this- and takes a sip.

"Cheers!" Laurel takes a sip, too, and closes her eyes in appreciation. "This is _amazing_."

"Okay, _much_ better, must say," Ellie agrees.

"Best Chardonnay I've ever had. Hands down."

"It's not bad, is it?"

"My taste buds may yet forgive me. I'd thought that was a lost cause." Laurel leads the way back to the sitting room again.

Ellie laughs and follows- it saves her from frowning in thought. Still remembering the night she and Joe bought the bottle. "Glad we can salvage them." She settles back in, getting cozy again.

"The important question here, Ellie, is what do we do with the bottle and a half of Pinot noir? Is there anyone that annoys you enough to gift the awful wine to?"

"Oh, just give it to Hardy," Ellie suggests, snickering. "It'll take him three years to finish."

Laurel thinks she can just picture him drinking it. "Maybe that's for the best. Red wine's actually pretty good for the heart, but this sort might kill him if he drank it too quickly."

"He's sharp onto the fact. Won't eat a bloody thing I ever bring him."

"You know, speaking of him..." Laurel pauses, feels just tipsy enough to keep going. "Can you keep another secret?"

"Hold on..." Ellie takes another good drink. "After that last...? I don't _know_..."

Laurel giggles. "Don't make fun of my issues, Ellie."

"That was quite the shocker, grumpy you." She laughs and settles back. "Alright, I'm braced now."

"Oh, just you wait. I'll come over with rum sometime and show you."

" _Rum_ , oh god."

"Alright... Well, see, here's the thing. My brain's a little turned off to certain things when I'm at the hospital working. It's totally automatic, I don't even notice it."

Ellie traces the edges of her glass a little, listening.

"But taking care of Mr. Hardy at his house is the first time I've ever cared for a patient in a home health type job. And... well... apparently... the rules don't apply as much."

"You've done _very_ well," Ellie compliments. "Not that I'm a nurse in any way."

Laurel pauses to beam. "Oh, _thank you_!"

Ellie has to laugh at the nurse's expression. "Of course! Saved him from his bloody self, didn't you?"

Laurel's a little distracted, already back to her earlier train of thought. "I may, sort of, a little bit, find myself thinking that he's slightly kind of fit." She feels her face flush and she takes a drink to cover it.

Ellie chokes on her drink and has to take a minute to recover.

"He might just die if he heard me say that, though." Watching Ellie react, Laurel's got to take another sip. Or a gulp. Either way.

"- _do_ you?!" Ellie's chortling, trying to swallow her wine without inhaling it.

"Oh, don't laugh at me!"

Ellie barely remembers to breathe, and Laurel picks up a throw pillow to hide her face.

"I might die, too, you know!" Ellie teases.

Laurel's grinning just a little, mortified but giddy.

"Oh, come on, stop that!" Ellie protests, still laughing and setting her glass down.

"Oi! It's not that funny!" Laurel's face is positively _flaming_ now. She was expecting a reaction, but not _this_ much amusement from her friend. "Why's it so hard to believe?"

"No- no, I think that's brilliant!" Is Ellie crying a little? Yes, she's crying a little.

Laurel tentatively emerges from behind the pillow to peek out at her friend, and finds Ellie grinning at her. "Do you?" She shakes her head, but lets a small smile emerge.

Ellie gives her a look, finally calming some. "I _do_. I know for a fact he's half-human somewhere in there; he's a good person, Laurel."

Laurel needs another sip of wine.

"And he's a right lucky bastard if you find him not half baked." Ellie grins at her again, looking over and resting her chin in a hand against the couch.

The smile turns softer, less amused and more earnest. "I know he is. I've spent a bit of time talking to him over the last week. He's kinder than he likes to let on. You think, though?" This intrigues her. "Does he get much interest around here?"

Ellie quirks an eyebrow. "Ha, no. No, the nicknames he's earned around here are not particularly pleasant."

Laurel shifts her position, takes another drink, settles in.

"But he doesn't deserve them. Well - on some days, he does, seein' as I gave him half of those nicknames. This includes a smirk.

Laurel giggles. "He's grumpy, but- ha! Well, I can understand that."

Ellie's quieting a little. "He came to this town unwelcome… so it wasn't exactly the easiest for him to set out on the right foot. It was not a good time to come."

"But he cares a lot- that's such a beautiful thing to see in a person." Laurel interjects softly.

"It is... it's rare," Ellie muses in agreement. "Rarer than I realised."

Laurel nods. "I've gathered that this whole town has had it rough, not excluding him."

"Mm. He stole my job, actually. Not intentionally, but… Well. He _did_ get it."

The topic is turning more maudlin, and that's not what Laurel wants. "So no wee crush on him yourself, then?" She's completely teasing. "No office romances for Ellie Miller?"

Ellie snorts. " _No_." Shakes her head. "No, I couldn't. It's just…" She sighs. "No, but - it's been accused." Awkward little laugh about that.

"Really!? Oh, wow. Well, it's pretty clear watching the two of you interact that you care about each other in a decidedly non-romantic way. Rude and grumpy probably isn't your type."

Ellie's got to laugh at Laurel's wording. "Not really, no. I - have a great affection for him, but I... no. Nope. He's too straggly for me, quite frankly."

Laurel chuckles. "That's what I thought when I saw him in the hospital gown, but then out in the real world..."

"Hah. S'pose he is _slightly_ better with clothes on."

"Most people are!" Laurel shakes her head and smirks a bit. "I quite like him in glasses, Ell."

"Okay, well. The glasses aren't bad. _Admittedly_."

Laurel giggles in triumph. "Aha!"

"But he never _wears_ them! Always looks like he's just rolled out of bed! Don't you think? You know, once, he left the hospital early and came _straight_ to the office. Dead-looking thing... like a rat." Her tone is very flat, exasperated at the mere memory. "Thought he was gonna pass out on me."

"I think that look somehow suits him. He has bigger things to worry about and everything about the way he looks and acts says that." Laurel grins. "'Dead-looking thing like a rat' is my new favorite description, by the way. Mm, yeah, stubborn, though, I can certainly see that."

"Mmm, sexy." Ellie quickly drains her wine because apparently that's where she's talking from now.

Laurel has to cover her mouth to muffle the volume of the laugh that's ripped from her at that very dry comment. "Maybe I'm into that. Don't judge."

Ellie puts her hands up- guilty, guilty- after setting her glass down again. "Oi, I'm all support."

"You know this is just a childish crush, right? He's _not_ to hear about it!"

"Is it?" Ellie teases, wiggling her eyebrows. "Oh, never? I dunno, you might have to bribe me..."

Since Ellie is no longer holding a glass, Laurel sees no issue with chucking a pillow at her.

"Hey-oi!"

" _Ellie!_ "

Ellie gives her a smirky look, crossing her arms over the pillow. "I have blackmail material now, you know."

Laurel laughs and shakes her head. "Just a crush," she repeats. "Harmless. Give it a week and it will fade. Besides, I think that's illegal, Miller."

"Shush shush, details… Darvill."

"That's what I'm going to say if you ever pull me over for speeding."

Ellie snorts. "Still going to ticket you."

"See, that would just be unfair. You can't ticket me! The speed limit is just a detail and those don't bother you!" She nudges Ellie with her toe, grinning.

Ellie, cracking up, picks up her glass to drink more of her wine- only to remember that she emptied it.

"Oh, I forgot, I made a cheese plate! Let me grab it. This is the sort of serious discussion that needs cheese." She hops to her feet to fetch it, grabbing Ellie's glass as she goes to refill it.

"Oh, good. Yes." Ellie wipes away a small tear of mirth.

Laurel brings back the cheese and sets it on the coffee table, swiping a chunk and eating it happily as she hands Ellie her glass back. "Anyway, better you than Hardy. He wouldn't let me off, that's for sure. I'd be in trouble if _he_ pulled me over!"

Ellie downs a bit of cheese, too. "Ha! Can you even imagine?"

"I saved your life, sir, don't I get a pass?" Laurel sticks out her bottom lip, imagining the conversation.

"Okay, I am wondering a little whether he wouldn't let you off for that, then."

"He'd better," Laurel mock-grumbles.

"Tell him _he's_ just a detail if he doesn't!"

She laughs. "Shall I tell him that comes from you?"

Ellie's only response is to whack her a little.

"I'm guessing that's a yes."

"Not if you want a _chance_ of me letting you off!"

"Special message from Ellie Miller, sir. _You_ are just a detail. Good day, sir."

Ellie snorts. "On second thought, please do that."

She giggles. "It'll be my pleasure."

"You can drive off and leave him to figure it out."

"I think that's illegal, too." Of course, she won't. She'll meekly hand over her license and registration and berate herself silently for speeding.

"...more details. Clearly it's a good thing I don't drink at work."

Laurel chuckles harder and downs the rest of her glass. "On the contrary, you'd be a lot of fun, I bet. Nicest cop in Britain."

Ellie laughs, shaking her head in denial.

"Not that you'd have much competition from here, I think. Hardy's not going to win that prize."

"You know… Ha, you might be right. You know he _actually_ got 'worst cop in'? Now _that_ was a good day."

"Did he _really_?" All teasing aside, this actually surprises Laurel. "How on earth did _that_ happen?"

Ellie gives her a flat look- "You _really_ don't want to see his reputation," she says with a sigh.

Laurel shakes her head. "You're probably right."

"He's not exactly well-liked. Seriously… It's because he doesn't give up."

"I've noticed that, but I don't understand it. I like him a lot. Why isn't that seen as a good quality?"

Ellie half smiles. "Circumstances... politics, really. Oh, things nobody can control. Christ, and wouldn't want to, to be honest."

Laurel pulls a face. "That sort of thing goes on in hospitals, too. I can't stand it."

"Oh?" Ellie's eager to get away from the topic of cases.

"Oh, yeah, the politics are _mad_. It's so much more dramatic than the patients ever see."

Ellie sighs hard. "I imagine so… Oh, Laurel, I'm so tired of this... so tired."

Laurel smiles gently. "I know. I don't know everything you're going through, but... That's the kind of tired I feel in my bones, too." She lays a hand on Ellie's arm. "Whatever you need, if there's anything I can do to help, even if it's just an occasional night of drinking too much wine, I'll do it. No question."

That wins her a little Ellie Miller smile and a weak laugh. She puts her hand on Laurel's, quiet. "Thanks, Laurel." She pats once and sighs. "Likewise... I can't _imagine_ the sort of thing you've got to see every day..."

Laurel's still pondering. "Honestly, while there are things that make me sad at the hospital, it's always been a bit of a haven for me. It's easy to lose myself in the work. I can't imagine doing your job, though."

Her friend nods. "Oh… You know, mostly it's all right… but that's just it. Ever since the - well, it's such a quiet town, most I'd ever had to deal with _was_ speeding tickets… Now it's all gone out the window."

"I bet." She's quiet, contemplative, wishes she knew what to say. "That sort of thing just tears a town up. I've never experienced it from a police officer's perspective, but... I've been in the position of the victim's family before. It's horrific."

"Oh, Laurel... I'm so sorry."

Laurel curls her hands around her knees and nods. "Thank you. It was a long time ago."

Ellie's watching her carefully… just from interacting with Laurel, she'd have had no idea. She hugs herself loosely, thinking.

Laurel puts on a soft smile and shrugs. "Sorry, that was darker than the sort of thing I meant to talk about tonight."

Ellie shakes head a little with a sad smile. "...Dunno how much of a choice we have in it, really. It has to come out some time."

Laurel shakes her head and laughs a bit. "You know, a year ago I would've said you were wrong because I haven't willingly talked about it in years, but this is twice in a week that I've talked about it now."

Ellie laughs weakly, too. "Something in the water. Curse of meeting us, probably. Bleeding hearts all over."

"Must be." She snorts. "I think that's alright. You lot seem worth it, though." She puts a hand on Ellie's arm again and squeezes. "You're so lovely. You deserve the whole world."

There's a watery smile on Ellie's face. "The same, dear. The same. I'm glad you called, the other night."

"Oh, it's one of the best decisions I've made lately! I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you are turning out to be exactly the kind of friend I need."

Oh, that very much so makes her smile. "So are you! Honestly!" Little laugh. "It's so lucky!"

Laurel's heart feels warm despite the seriousness weaving its way through their conversation. It's so nice to have a friend.

Ellie's shaking her head. "And we've only known you- how long? A week? Two weeks? Not long, for sure."

"Seems hard to believe! I definitely have more distinct memories of the last few weeks than the rest of the six months I've been in Broadchurch. Haven't really connected with anyone else, to be honest."

Ellie frowns a little… somehow that makes her sad. "I'm sorry to hear that... you know, had you been here a few years ago, you'd've been welcomed right in, I'm sure." Smiles a bit. "It really is a warm place."

"Oh, this isn't a fault of the town, I promise. I just... don't make friends easily. Usually pretty content with my own company, so that's okay. It was the same in Bournemouth."

"Mm..." Ellie's doubtful but she nods a little; Laurel seems super friendly, if a little shy. "I'm surprised… You're absolutely easy to be around. I mean..." She shrugs. "I don't know what it is."

Laurel smiles. "I appreciate that. Genuinely. But I don't make real connections easily."

Ellie nods. These days, she can identify with that.

"I can be friendly with a whole city and still be friendless."

Ellie considers this. "...you know, a while back, I might've said I had very deep friendships here, and I did! But..." She shakes her head. It's Laurel's turn to listen, and she rests her cheek on the back of the couch as she shifts to do so. "Things've changed. Some are even deeper now than I realised could be, others..." Ellie shrugs. "It's like- like they were never there."

Laurel nods. "That happened to me as well. It's hard, isn't it?" She knows that's the understatement of the year, but...

"Think I was lonelier than I realised. Not that it's any better now, I've mostly got Hardy." She sighs. "It _is_ hard…"

Laurel smiles a bit. "I'm glad you have each other. He seems lonely, too. And I know no one can understand what you're going through except him and vise versa."

"I am grateful for him, don't get me wrong... But he really is so lonely. Almost insists on it, I think."

"Mhm. Maybe that's why I've found it so easy to get along with you two. I'm lonely, as well."

Ellie's finding herself a little heavy-hearted again. "Definitely need more wine," she murmurs. "Can I attempt to get you some?".

"Oh, I'd love that!" The smile widens some at the reference to their earlier conversation.

Ellie manages a grin, too, and scoops up both glasses. "That could be!" she agrees, continuing the talk as she heads for the kitchen, her smile warming. "I know we're both glad to have met someone as open..." She disappears briefly but comes back with the whole bottle they've been working on.

Plopping back down on the sofa, she pours a generous amount in both glasses, luckily not spilling anything too badly.

Laurel grins briefly at the fairly successful wine pouring and nods. "It's not the easiest thing in the world to get close to people who have never really been through anything. That sounds terrible, I know everyone has struggles, but..."

Ellie sighs. "Oh, god, it's _true_ , though, isn't it? I really despise it, too. Didn't realise it was going to be a club, or I might not've signed up." She offers Laurel her own glass back.

"Ah, thanks!" This brings a snort. "You and me both, love."

There's a toast and another round of "cheers."

"Three might be it for me, I think… Got to walk home, you know."

"Me as well, probably. Don't have to walk home, but I _do_ have to manage to get up the stairs, and I have to work tomorrow."

Ell groans. "And tomorrow is going to be exceptionally tedious, too!"

"Because of the wine? Or because of something else?"

"Aha, paperwork. Least favourite, of course. Nothing special, though; I'm grateful for that."

Laurel echoes Ellie's groan. "That's a struggle I know all too well. 90% of nursing right there."

"Ha! Love the excitement." Laurel's managed to coax a new grin out of Ellie.

"I spend all of my time charting," the nurse agrees wryly. "I even dream about it some nights."

Ellie snorts. "Do you really?"

"As if I don't do enough of it awake!"

She shakes her head with a laugh. "I dream about poking holes in people's tires."

Laurel laughs. "You've got a vindictive streak, do you?"

Ellie's a tad smug. "A bit, really." She's wearing a half-guilty grin. "Mostly those are daydreams, though. Or wishful thinking."

"I think most people've got a streak like that, honestly." Laurel finds it quite funny, if she's being honest. Ellie comes across as such a sweetheart until she says something like this.

"Oh, probably more than will admit it," she laughs.

"I try not to, but sometimes I do, too," Laurel confesses. "I'd be surprised to find someone who never has felt that urge."

"Oh, for sure! Think it's human nature, deep down. Really wish it weren't tho," she adds, muttering into her wine and taking a sip.

Laurel's sort of reminiscing on her end of the sofa. "I don't think I'd ever actually hurt anyone, but… There was this doctor at the hospital I worked in in Bournemouth that was awful to everyone… And I just got fed up with it."

Ellie finds that she's got to extend the length of the drink as they get on this topic.

"Ran into him in the lounge one day," Laurel continues. "He yelled at me for something that came across as vaguely sexist while he made his coffee. He got called away for something just as he finished making it, and I dumped his coffee down the sink… He got so angry, thinking someone drank it."

"No…!" Ellie's a mixture of horrified and amused, waiting to see how this story turns out.

"From there on out, I dumped his coffee every time he left it unattended for thirty seconds. Must have happened a dozen times. He never cottoned on that it as me." She's just the tiniest bit smug about that fact.

"Oh you're _brilliant!_ " Ellie's chortling… she's got a newfound respect for the mousy nurse.

Laurel laughs. "And petty and childish, but thank you."

"No, I _love_ it!"

"I'm a little ashamed of myself but also a little proud. What does that say about me as a person?" Laurel grins and sips her wine.

"Says you've got some healthy self-respect, in my opinion," Ellie diagnoses slyly. "And an _excellent_ sense of justice."

Laurel laughs. "Knew I liked you for a reason. Is that your professional opinion as a law enforcement officer?"

Ellie straightens her spine. "Yes, oh yes. I can see now that you represent the common good."

"We make quite a pair…" Laurel teases. "The nurse who recommends alcohol and the cop who recommends petty revenge!"

"Don't we just? Someone out to give us a raise. Seriously."

"A big one! So we can afford more wine!"

Ellie pours a bit of the last of that wine bottle- "Speaking of which- a top-off? We've almost made it through this whole one…"

"Oh, why not? Thanks!" This is more to drink than Laurel's had in ages and she's winding down, but it's been so _nice_ that she doesn't want the evening to end.

Likewise; Ellie's forgetting to worry, and it's a wonderful relief. Sleepy, though- always did make her chattier and then sleepy again, everyone always said. But being at Laurel's! She'd have thought the notion of this happening would've been ridiculous just a week ago.

And maybe it's not exactly _the_ thing she should be doing, right now- but there's no hearing tomorrow to sit in on- a break is a break.

There's not much more than drops left for Ellie to pour- they really plowed through this bottle. Laurel can't at all bring herself to regret it.

"This has been really just a brilliant evening. Thanks so much for coming, love," she says softly.

"Laurel, _thank you_. I… I'm very fortunate we met." She grins. "It was my pleasure to come by."

"Likewise. I hope you know that you're welcome here any time."

Ellie nods... it means a lot, another open door. Another friend, when so many have abandoned her. "The same, you know. And ask your family about visiting! We'll do a tour then, if they want. Maybe one before then, too, so you're not lost anymore."

"Oh, that'd be so much fun!" Laurel gives a sheepish grin. "You'd think I wouldn't be by now, but…"

Ellie laughs. "If you haven't got a reason to go to some parts of it, I can see not getting there."

Laurel drains the last of the top-off and sets aside her empty glass. "You're very kind, but the problem is mostly that I have a terrible sense of direction."

"Do you really?! Well, that's a fair reason as any, don't you think?"

"Yes! It's a hazard, honestly. I'm a danger to myself!"

"Just use the horizon, the cliffs and the water as a marker. Can't miss 'em."

Laurel laughs. "You know, Bournemouth is coastal, too, but somehow I never even got that down."

Ellie grins. "S'pose you don't see the cliffs unless you're under them… but don't make me give you a ticket for directional endangerment."

"If you do that, I'll just call you every time I need to go somewhere and ask for a ride. You'll regret that ticket pretty quickly," Laurel teases.

Her friend snorts. "I'll be a chauffeur again! Hardy used to need that."

"Again? -oh! I imagine that driving wouldn't go so well before the pacemaker," she muses.

"It was - _ridiculous_. All hours, you wouldn't believe."

"And I'm sure that was _very_ exciting and fulfilling for you," Laurel guesses, snorting.

"Mmm, not so much."

Laurel chuckles, imagining the arguments that surely arose, and Ellie can easily read her thought process. "Oh, you've got the right idea. Ne'er even gave me tips…" She finishes up her wine, too.

"You ought to make him drive _you_ around now that he's cleared to drive again!" Laurel suggests.

Ellie laughs, delighted at the idea. "There's your vindictive streak coming out again! Oh, he'd _love_ that."

"You've caught me." Laurel's grinning. "Not sure it would be much different from normal, anyway. He seems to wear that grumpy expression 95% of the time!"

"You're _not_ wrong," Ellie says, shaking her head. "Hardly a loss to be counted."

"If a man grumbles in a forest and no one is around to hear, is he still named Alec Hardy?"

"Those poor trees….."

Laurel chuckles. "He'd probably stunt their growth." Since the wine is gone now, she stands up and stretches with a light groan, feeling tired and content.

"They'd all grow scraggly little leaves and sigh in the breeze." Ellie runs a hand along her own jaw, demonstrating a beard.

"The _real_ reason for global warming…"

Ellie stretches out, too, snorting and setting her glass down.

"Don't forget to keep my secrets secret, yeah?" Laurel reminds her. "Don't want any trees falling on me, since Hardy surely commands them."

Ellie stands, slightly wobbly in a very pleasant way. " _Hah_. I'm sure you'll blend right in, you and your grumpy whiskey." She's definitely smirking now.

"Oh, I don't think the world can take Hardy and grumpy Darvill in the same place at the same time."

"I have a feeling he'd be too shocked to be grumpy anymore."

"Oi, is it really _that_ surprising?" Laurel asks, laughing. "Everyone's grumpy sometimes, right? Even me."

"Impossible," Ellie protests, shaking her head.

"I guess you'll just have to see it to believe it. We can make that happen someday… If I recover from tonight, that is! I'm such a lightweight, three glasses does me in."

Ellie snorts. "Ugh, likewise."

Laurel takes both glasses back to the kitchen and quickly rinses them, drying them off and returning Ellie's new one back to her. "Hope you get some use out of that," she says with a grin.

Ellie's collecting herself and her things. "Oh-! Hah, I'm sure that I will!" she murmurs fondly, looking it over. "This really was all too kind of you."

"It was my pleasure. It's really fun to see someone so excited over such a small gift." She spontaneously gives Ellie a hug, happy as could be after a great evening.

Ellie laughs happily and returns the hug. "Small? This entire evening?" She gives her new friend a warm grin. "See you around."

"Oh, it was so lovely for me, I should be begging you to come back!" Laurel leads the way to the door and opens it with a fond smile. "I sure hope so. Have a good night, love."

"And you. Night, dear."

Laurel watches her leave, waves, and closes the door behind her, still feeling pleasantly buzzed as she gets ready for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The views and opinions expressed in this fic (particularly by Ellie Miller) in no way represent the views and opinions of the authors. The authors, in fact, love German wine!


	6. Chapter 6

Mum's standing in the kitchen when Daisy walks inside. She doesn't immediately look up, instead continuing to sort bills, but she puts a warm smile on her face when she hears Daisy. Daisy can't help but wonder if it's faked.

"Hello, love. Have a good time at your dad's?"

Finally, she turns around, her smile faltering when she catches sight of Daisy's face. Daisy's standing in the doorway, her bag still on her back, watching Tess warily.

"Everything alright, darling?" Mum asks, but she stops moving forward, halting a few feet away. "Alec didn't do anything wrong on the drive back, did he?" She pauses. "I _knew_ it was weird that he wanted to bring you home. What did he say?"

Daisy finally finds her voice as she shakes her head, glad Mum is keeping her distance. "He didn't say anything, Mum." Her tone's wrong but at least she's talking.

"Then what is it?" Fears apparently appeased, Mum has reverted to slight impatience, looking like she's ready for Daisy to stop having a teenager moment.

"Can we sit down, Mum?"

Mum blinks at her suspiciously for a moment. "Why?"

Daisy pulls up a chair and gestures expectantly to the one across the table until Mum sighs and sits.

Daisy is in no way ready for this conversation, but sitting here avoiding it is going to do her no good, so after a long moment, she sighs deeply at looks squarely at her mother. "Mum, I want you to tell me what happened between you and Dad."

Immediately, Mum's expression turns fifteen degrees colder. "Why are you asking, Daisy? You already know what happened. What did your father say to you?"

Daisy is already emotional, hurting and feeling betrayed, and if she's had any doubts about Dad's versions of events- honestly, she hasn't- they're all gone from the way that Mum immediately goes on the defensive.

Her own expression hardens. "No, I don't think I do, Mum. Care to enlighten me?"

"Daisy Anne Hardy, you know everything you need to know and I do _not_ appreciate your tone."

Daisy sits forward and crossed her arms. "You know what? You're right. I know everything I need to know. I know you cheated on Dad and let him take the fall for _you_ losing evidence."

Mum's jaw drops, and she freezes that way for a few seconds. The silence is almost unbearable. "That's not- who's been- _Daisy_ -"

"Oh, are you going to deny it?" Daisy snaps. "Go ahead. Tell me I'm wrong."

Mum stares at her for a long moment, clearly assessing how confident Daisy is in these assumptions, and she slowly nods. "I had an affair, yes," she says stiffly. Her eyes are still cold, colder than Daisy has ever seen them.

"Then _why_ did you let me think Dad did!?" Daisy explodes, leaping to her feet. Mum looks on, unmoved. "You drove him away from me and made me hate him when it was you all along! WHY!?"

Mum swallows, looks away. "It was for the best. It was the best thing at the time. Your father and I agreed."

"Because _he_ wanted to fix the mess you made, Mum! He wanted us to stay a family!"

This brings Mum's eyes back to Daisy's. "Daisy, you were not a part of that discussion, so you cannot talk to me about this. You don't know what you're saying."

Daisy loses her ire a bit, because she doesn't want Mum getting upset with Dad for something that Olly did. "Someone told me the whole story. Dad didn't want me to know. He was just going to let me walk out of his life because he wanted me to have a good relationship with _you_. But how is that supposed to ever happen again, Mum? You lied to me, destroyed my relationship with Dad, tore apart my family-" She has to stop because her voice is breaking and tears are starting to leak out of her eyes.

Mum looks pained now, her anger dropping as Daisy's does. "Daisy, love, I'm sorry for hurting you. But your father and I were over well before any of that happened, and it was never going to work out for us to be a family again."

"Did he know that?" she asks, sobbing a bit.

Mum sighs heavily. "He and I both love you very deeply, darling, and that's never going to change. But he and I don't love _each other_ anymore. You'll understand someday, when you have your first heartbreak."

Daisy doesn't agree with Mum's assessment. She also thinks Mum shouldn't be allowed to talk about heartbreak, not after what she did to Daisy and Dad. Daisy doesn't say any of this, though, instead turning around and heading for the door.

She stops, turns slowly again instead of exiting, stares at Mum through her tears one more time. "You're not the person I thought you were."

As she leaves, she hears Mum murmur something very softly. "I'm sorry you feel that way," she says.

Daisy heads to her room, curls up in bed, and tries not to think. After a few minutes, she hears the door slam and Mum's car start up and leave.

She's all alone again.

* * *

Daisy is curled up in her bed under a small mountain of blankets, mobile in one hand and the other massaging her forehead as she listens to the silence of the empty house and waits for Dad to ring her.

8pm. It's been enough time, hasn't it? He made it back in good time, but it's still been four hours. Hardy takes a deep breath and draws up a chair before dialing Daisy and pressing the phone to his ear.

She lets the phone ring a couple of times to compose herself before she answers. "Hey," she says, subdued. Her voice sounds too loud compared to the previously deafening silence.

He clears his throat a little, waiting. "Hi," he answers. Hard to say how she's feeling from just that one syllable, but a 'hey' is something; she's talking. His voice is very even. "...how're you holdin' up?" He's a knot of uncertainty, right now. Can't imagine how Tess took this. Maybe it's a good sign he hasn't heard from her.

"Okay, I guess. That wasn't… um, it could have gone worse, but it wasn't fun." Hers isn't even. It's wobbly, hitched. She's been crying again recently. She hopes that someday soon she'll get to the point where she doesn't do that often anymore.

All right. Now he's getting a little more from her voice, and something in his chest tightens. "Mm. She wasn't… angry with you, was she?" he asks, hearing himself distantly. If anything, Tess _cannot_ take this out on Daisy. It's hardly _her_ fault. And while he'd _like_ to hold true to his belief that Tess won't, he knows he ought not to put any such thing past her, now. She's not the person he thought she was.

"I don't think so. At first, she was, but… I think mostly she's angry with you, not me. But she wasn't… I don't know, Dad. She wasn't acting like Mum. She wasn't as- um, loving?- as she usually is. Seemed like she didn't want to talk about it and I was inconveniencing her by trying to." Daisy swallows. "She left about an hour ago. I don't know where she went, but she seemed upset."

Hardy swallows. "...good." Oh, god. "...all right. Well…" Tess is doing that false litle _let's-talk-about-it-later_ escape plan. Overcompensating. He can almost hear her tone, she must be outraged. But not at Daisy- and that's all that matters. At least Tess knows, now. No more secrets. "..."

He unintentionally lets the gap in his sentence drag, bowing his head and rubbing his face. Jesus Christ. "Um. Daisy, listen, I…" He has to call Tess. He has to. "...you did well. There's no easy way to deliver that. And I'm so sorry that you had to. You tell me _immediately_ if she does an'thin'- _an'thin'_ at all that she shouldn't." He swallows again. "If she says anythin' to you tha' she shouldn't, blames you at all…" He's sure Daisy gets the picture. God, he has to call Tess. He can't tell Daisy. Has to tell Daisy. The next words he hears himself say waver with conviction and uncertainty. "...I'm going to talk to her."

Daisy's only half-listening, instead continuing to think in circles. His voice is soothing, though, soft and patient and caring, and his familiar brogue is comforting to here. "I will. Thanks, Dad." She freezes when his last few words register, though. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asks, worried. "Dad, I've been realizing this weekend that I was wrong to push you away for so long, even if you'd done what I thought you did. I don't want to make that mistake with Mum, too. I love her, of course I do, I just- look, wouldn't it be better to just… let things settle?"

She's afraid of making things worse, knows Dad won't do it on purpose but might by accident. At the same time, though, she knows it's not fair to silence him, and she knows that at some point, her parents _will_ have to talk.

Hardy falls silent. He's thinking the same thing, but- to say _nothing_ …! He'd be handing Daisy over on a platter. Tess'd find a way to twist this, to guilt him into keeping his distance, or… Is she above threats? Ugh. She could take legal action. He's still publicly at fault, and hardly in a position to push her.

"...I know," he croaks. "I don't want that, either. You need her - and she needs you, too." He means it with everything that he is. The last thing he wants to do is destroy their relationship. Daisy deserves her mother… and if he'd had his way, Daisy still wouldn't know about what had happened and things would be as they'd been. Protected. "This is - I can't say what'll happ'n. But I _have_ to speak with her. I'm…" He sighs, constricted. Almost a choke.

"...I just have to - be sure she knows it's not my intention to pull you away. I'm - afraid she won't let me see you if I don't make things clear very quickly."

"I tried," Daisy offers softly. "I tried to make it very clear to Mum that you didn't break any agreement, that you didn't even want me to find out what happened. I'm not sure she believed me, though."

She pauses.

"Okay, just… Dad, please be careful what you say," she finally concedes. "Don't let her get to you. I'm not sure how much steam she needs to blow off."

"Thank you, Daisy." He takes a deep breath. "...I won't. I promise." There's not much more she can do, really.

"She- Dad, she loves me, right?" She feels horribly bitchy for asking, knows how much of a slap in the fact this reminder must feel to him, but she needs the reassurance. "She used to say she loved you and then she didn't mean it, in the end. She's not doing that to me, is she?"

A week ago, she'd have sworn up and down that if there was one thing she was sure of, it was her mother's love, but now… She just doesn't know what to believe, and it _stings_.

"Oh, Dais'... No. She loves you. I know she does. She adores you…" It's breaking his heart that she has to doubt it… but she's not unwise to consider it. "You're our daughter and I know she would do anything for you- including intentionally hurting you emotionally."

Daisy swallows and nods, even though she knows he can't really see her. "She said she was sorry for hurting me, but… She didn't ever say she was sorry for doing what she did." Her lip trembles. "How do I learn to trust her again? How do I ever get back to the point where I believe what she says? I'm sure you're right, but I just can't convince myself of it."

She clenches a fist in the fabric of her quilt, her face crumpling and her voice catching. Doesn't want him to hear her _crying again_ , knows it'll only make him feel worse. She hates this, she _hates_ this, she's got all of this emotion boiling up inside of her and she doesn't have a clue what to do with it. Everything that used to be easy and taken for granted hurts now.

No remorse. Of course she wouldn't have any. Hardy's resting his face in his hands as he speaks softly. "...I don't entirely know, darling," he admits. "But I think things will become clearer for all of us. I hope so. But I also do believe we were all three of us happy together, once… And I've seen her do things - wonderful, beautiful things for you that _assure_ me… She - she doesn't just want to keep you from me. She wants _you_. She loves you."

Daisy lets 10 seconds pass without speaking. 15, 20, holding her breath and feeling her face turn red. Finally, holding the phone away from her face, she takes a deep, gasping breath and calms herself down a breath.

"Okay," she mumbles finally. "I have to believe you're right."

She grips the phone harder, wishes he was closer. "I want that again, Daddy, I…" She hasn't called him Daddy since he left. Always just Dad these days. Hell if she doesn't need the comfort now, though. Let herself give into that delusion that her protective father can handle everything.

"I know it'll never happen like that again. But I remember being so _happy_ , you're right, you and me and Mum and - oh, what was his name? Charlie. That dog we had that it turned out Mum was allergic to. A year before you left, those few weeks are my happiest memories."

"Is it wrong for me to wish to have that again? Even though it's unrealistic, and… and wouldn't even be fair to any of us? We're not the same people anymore, but I _want_ us to be."

As if all of this wasn't heart-wrenching enough, her note of vulnerability has him aching to hold her and promise that everything will be alright, and to keep her from it in every way that he can. It's startling, because he knows well that this is a delicate situation, that they're all vulnerable here - but none more so than Daisy.

"Oh, sweetheart…" It's very faint, but he chuckles a little about Charlie. That'd been a good dog. His voice is heavy. "...It's not at all wrong, love. It's perf'ctly natural. I…" He wants it, too. Wants nothing but their family back. "...You're right. We're not the same people. But I think we're capable of finding new happiness. This won't be the end, Daisy, not for any of us… Maybe somehow… It's for the best; it's just hard to see, right now."

"I hope so, Dad," Daisy sighs, her voice as heavy as his. She burrows into the pillow. "I really hope so. I could use a little more happiness right now." She glances at the clock on her bedside table and sighs heavily.

"I've got some homework to do if I can make myself focus on it, so I should probably ring off. But thanks for being here, Dad. You just don't know how much I needed you tonight." She's stopped crying again- hopefully it'll stick, this time- and she just feels tired now. Grateful to him for loving her consistently despite the way she's treated him until very recently.

"Right..." God, he wishes he could be there, right now. More than ever. "I love you, darling. I'm… I'm grateful we could talk tonight, too, thank you. Hope your work goes well, but- Daisy? Know that it's alright if you just need to rest tonight, instead. It's been an intense weekend. Sweet dreams. 'Night."

Daisy smiles a bit, committing this to memory… She's not sure she's ever been told it's okay to not finish her homework. "Good night, Dad. I love you, too." She hangs up, feeling a little happier than she did before the call.

Right, time for calculus. Sigh.

* * *

Hardy takes a minute to himself after letting Daisy go. For such a difficult subject, it was the sweetest call they've had in ages. Quite frankly, he's loathe to give it over to Tess now. God… Daisy's okay, though. She's okay for the night.

He takes a deep breath and dials Tess, not at all sure what he's going to say or how this is going to go, just determined to keep it calm.

Tess has been aimlessly driving for over an hour now, fuming. She's 50 miles outside from Sandbrook when the Bluetooth feature of her car alerts her to an incoming call. She growls under her breath when the name is announced, and she aggressively hits the answer button. "Well done, Alec," she says instead of actually greeting him.

Well. He should have expected this. It still prompts a silent moment, closing his eyes and trying not to bite. "...hello, Tess." She sounds a little fuzzy. Drove somewhere, hadn't she? Is she still driving?

Tess rolls her eyes and finds a deserted side road to pull off on, expecting that she won't be interested in paying attention to the road very soon. "What happened to our agreement?" she demands. Best to get it out now. No point in exchanging pleasantries with her backstabbing ex-husband.

He suffers a long sigh, but it's quiet. "She knew, Tess. Somehow. I couldn't downright lie to her."

"And how is it that she knew!? I sure as hell didn't tell her."

"I did my best to uphold our agreement." She's really not making this easy for him.

"Oh, save it, Alec. You're not doing yourself any favours here."

"I don't know. I don't know, Tess… she must have heard it…"

"Didn't you think it might be in her best interests to lie to her?" Tess is furious, but more than that, she's afraid. There's nothing that scares her more than losing her daughter.

"Tess."

Heard it? "Who else knows?" she growls. "Who've you been telling?" He ignores this because frankly, it's none of her business.

"She's fifteen."

"Yes, she is. She's a child. She didn't need to be dragged into this."

"She's a right to make her own choices." The girl herself has made that abundantly clear to him this weekend, and he couldn't be more proud of her for it.

"And that meant telling her all the things we agreed to keep from her?"

"I _didn't_ tell her," he reiterates. "I had no intention of telling her."

"Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that," Tess says, her voice scathing. "I sent her to you completely unaware and she came back fully informed and very angry. You do the maths."

Hardy groans. "Tess, I don't want this to escalate. I'm still taking full public responsibility, your career is untouched. It was a mistake, that's all. I don't know how she found out."

"Yeah, great, my career is fine. But what about my daughter? She hates me now! Is that what you wanted?"

"No, Tess. No, it's _not_. We can work this out, the three of us."

Tess would have believed him yesterday. Now she doesn't. "No, we can't. Not if you're trying to drive her away from me. She deserves better than that. She was _happy_."

"...I know. And I'm sorry. Really, I am. It's killing me to see her like this. I want her to be able to trust you. Tess, that's why I agreed to this in the first place. I've told you that before."

"Whatever, Alec. I'm just going to have to clean up your mess."

"Tess-"

"Save it, okay? Just save it."

"I'm calling so I can help!" They may never really get along again, but it's vital that she stops seeing him as the enemy… he's horrified by the possibility that she could try to keep Daisy away from him if he angers her enough.

"How could you possibly help? You've done enough damage."

"Tess… For god's _sake_ …"

"Go back to failing to solve murders. It's what you do best."

There's a part of him that just cannot believe her right now, but the rest of him is used to this. "Tess. _Please_. Please, just talk to me."

"What do you want from me, exactly? What do you want me to say?" Tess is itching to move, to run, to rove, but she can't do much to improve her relationship with Daisy if she drives while distracted and dies in a car wreck.

"I just want a bit of your time. Just as long as it takes to sort this out."

"I fail to see what's left to sort out. You've made your choice. Now we've all got to live with it. It's that simple."

"I just need you to know - I will do whatever it takes to make sure Daisy feels as at home with you as… As before." He's getting a little desperate.

"And nothing you do will ever be enough. I'm not sure why you don't understand that."

"...I know." He briefly holds the phone out away from his mouth, muttering " _shit"_ under his breath. "I'm- I'm not your enemy Tess. Please."

"You know, Alec, I would have believed that yesterday. Today, I'm not so sure. I thought that at least as far as Daisy goes, we could still work together, but…" She snorts, and there's no humor in the sound at all. "You've always been a one-man show, haven't you?"

" _What_?"

"Alec calls the shots, to _hell_ with whatever other people think."

"Christ, Tess."

"Don't act like this isn't something you do all the time. You did it when we were married, you did it when we worked together, and now you're doing it with Daisy."

"...unbelievable. This is _unbelievable._ "

"Which part? The part where someone is finally calling you out on your shit?" Tess is normally pretty good at remaining civil, even when she's angry, but he's crossed a line so she feels no shame in crossing one, too.

"You'd know all about that."

"All about _what_?" Her tone spells danger. Don't go there, Alec, she's warning.

"...talk to Daisy. For god's sake, _tell_ her how much you love her. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Don't be ridiculous. The last thing Daisy wants right now is to talk to me… Thanks to you."

"Really? -Thanks to _me_?" Is she forgetting everything she did at the end of their marriage, the sort of thing that Daisy's only just now having the chance to get angry about?

"She knows I love her. I don't know why you're implying that she doesn't."

He grits his teeth, the phone clenched in his fist as he fights to keep his breathing even.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to let her visit Broadchurch anymore, Alec."

"I think you need to let her decide that. We both do. I have as much right to see her as you do." He's terrified that she'll disagree, though, and Daisy's still a minor, unable to make her own decisions as far as legal matters are concerned.

"I'm still the custodial parent, remember that? In the eyes of the law, you're wrong."

"Tess... _Please_. I am… I'm _begging_ you to understand."

"If she wants to see you, you can drive here and have a supervised dinner with her. There's still that chicken joint you loved so much."

His jaw cracks as he clenches it. " _Tess_." It's growled.

"Alec." Same tone.

"Talk to her." He hangs up… he's not a violent man- in fact, that's so far from his personality that his urges tonight scare him- but he's about ready to punch the wall.

Instead, he seethes for a bit, very quiet, and paces, full of terrified rage. When that proves insufficient, he storms out to the beach.

* * *

Hardy shuts down as he waits to hear from Daisy or Tess again, and for two days, he stays home, calling in sick to the station. He's too worried, too angry, to focus properly.

On the second day, Miller decides that she's had enough of being suspicious- the man doesn't bloody call in sick for a heart attack, so what's he on about now?- and marches to his house after work. She raps on his door insistently until he gets irritated enough to answer, and when she sees the state of him, she gives him a long, angry lecture about taking care of himself, and just _what_ is bloody wrong with him!?

She decides he's not well enough to judge his own state, so (from a place of concern but also one of frustration) she calls Laurel almost immediately.

Hardy, of course, protests. "Miller. I'm _fine._ "

"No, sir, you're _not_."

" _Miller!_ "

" _Sir-_ oh, hi, Laurel!" Instantly, her attitude changes, making Hardy throw his hands up and skulk behind her.

"Hey, Ellie! Is everything alright?" Laurel's caught the tail end of the conversation. She's just finishing up a twelve hour shift and her brain isn't working nearly as quickly as it did at the beginning of the day.

"Oh- well. Actually, I think Hardy could use your professional opinion. You up to much right now?"

"Nothing at all, love." She's on her way out of the hospital. "Are you at his house?"

"The very same!"

"Alright. Give me twenty minutes and I'll be there."

"That would be _brilliant_ , oh - he needs a look over. Looking a little _scraggly_ , if you ask me."

Laurel chuckles. "Is that a new symptom or is he a lifelong sufferer?"

Ellie laughs, glad help is on the way. She genuinely _is_ a little worried. "Chronic, dear! You're incredible. See you soon!"

She determinedly ignores Hardy rolling his eyes dramatically.

"See you in just a bit," Laurel agrees, and rings off. She's exhausted but cheers considerably at the thought of seeing her favourite detectives; she suspects that Hardy is fine, but of course she'll check. She just has to run home and grab her bag.

It's a quick stop and she's at Hardy's 17 minutes after she ends the call with Ellie. She knocks on the door and straightens her scrubs a bit, thinking that she should have taken the time to change out of them.

Ellie answers with a smile.

"Hello, love!" Laurel says brightly.

"Laurel! Come on in!"

She follows Ellie inside. "How are you feeling, Mr. Hardy?"

"Excuse his mess- he's been holed up a few days. Bloody moping." Obviously disapproving, she gives him a look.

Hardy groans a little, interrupting. "I'm _fine_ ," he growls, shooting Ellie a look right back.

Laurel's expression morphs into one of concern. "That doesn't sound too nice," she says lightly, glancing over Hardy's form. "Mind if I check you out for just a moment?"

"Really, I am, but- _fine_." Why not? If it will get them off of his back… "Miller…!" He wants to tell her off, but he honestly doesn't have the energy.

"Thanks, love." The bright smile is back, and Laurel begins pulling things out of her bag, very used to this routine by now. "So what's changed, hm?" she asks as she works. "Thought you were on the mend."

Hardy plops heavily onto his usual spot on the sofa and sighs, long suffering. "I _am_."

A smug Miller goes to make tea for the three of them.

"I don't mean to be rude, Mr. Hardy, but you're looking a little under the weather." Laurel's tone is light.

"Am I?" Kind of a grunt, a bit clipped but finally settling out of his annoyance. "It's all been fine."

"It'll help if you're honest. If it's nothing, it's nothing, but I need to know." She's not chastising him, just informing him.

She's too damn _good_ , and he's finding her too friendly to argue with. It's disarming. He sighs.

"...it's Daisy- well- it's her mother, honestly."

Laurel nods, affixing the cuff to his arm and not looking at him, letting him talk uninterrupted.

"She's… been especially difficult lately." He trails off, staring off into the distance. He's been doing a lot of that lately.

"Stress is a dangerous thing," Laurel says softly.

"Mm."

Miller brings them all tea and settles happily on the other end of the couch, considerably less worried now that Laurel is here. "Ooh, haven't gotten to see this in a while. Hardy, following orders!" She sips at her own mug, frankly delighted.

The nurse finds that his blood pressure is elevated but not frighteningly so. "Temperature, love?" she asks, holding up the thermometer and shooting Ellie a wink.

Hardy clamps down on it, shooting Ellie a look and earning a light scolding from Laurel. "Don't bite it, please. Won't get an accurate reading that way."

"Mm." He growls a bit but eases up.

"Ah, thanks."

Ellie snorts.

When the thermometer beeps to signal that it's done, Laurel glances at the number on the screen. "Normal temperature. That's a good sign. Can I check your incisions?"

Hardy nods and sighs, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his incisions.

"No daughter going to show up unexpectedly this time, I hope. Not that it wouldn't be lovely to see her again, but…" Laurel's wearing a slightly bashful grin, remembering the last time they did this with a bit of awkwardness.

Hardy merely hums a little and stares at the ceiling.

Laurel's relatively pleased with the appearance of the incisions, no obvious signs of infection.

"Alright, love, you can button up again."

Hardy does so.

"In my professional opinion, your only issue is stress. No surgery-related problems. That being said, stress is very dangerous for someone with a heart condition."

"...yeah." Ellie mutters something along the lines of told-you-so and sips her tea.

"I'd like you to try to do something relaxing- no, I'm not telling you to stop working entirely, but mix in something that'll make you happier, too- over the next few days."

Hardy sighs hopelessly and flops back on the couch. "What could that possibly be?"

Laurel shrugs lightly. "That's up to you."

"Any time I try to relax I just - can't."

"You could finish Harry Potter." She grins as she remembers reading to him.

He lets a slight, reluctant smile onto his face. "Maybe I'll try that, then," he mutters.

"Whatever you do, don't shut yourself away. I know that you might have an instinct to pull away from others when things get hard- I know because I do it, too- but that'll only make things worse."

Ellie coughs, fed up with his attitude. "Go on a date, sir." Hardy immediately shoots her a glare.

Laurel chuckles. "There's a plan."

Hardy rolls his eyes. "Half this town hates me, Miller."

"I know some who don't," Ellie contests, smug- but then pauses, clearly horrified. "-don't get _any_ ideas, sir; I hate you more than anymore."

Laurel listens with the slightest hint of dejection; she doesn't really want to watch him date someone else, though she has no claim on him at all, just a pointless crush. Ellie's comment makes her snort, though.

"So, what- you want me to hang out at bars now, is that it?"

Ellie sighs as if he's a great trial unto her. "God, you're thick." Hardy proves her right with a blank look.

Laurel quietly repacks her bag. She should make an escape now that she knows he's fine. She doesn't want to hear this.

Ellie leans back on the couch, sipping her tea and raising her eyebrows as she waits for him to get her point. When he doesn't, she shakes her head and spells it out for him, her voice light. "Oh... Let me see... Who's kind, intelligent, adorable, _brilliant_ in every way... _loves_ Harry Potter, apparently, and - _might_ just find your nasty grumpy schtick to be the slightest bit tolerable...? Especially 'in-glasses', I hear? -And who's currently packing up her bag, since you're still staring at me like a bloody dead bird?"

Laurel freezes, wondering wildly if Harry Potter will let her borrow his invisibility cloak. "Me?" she squeaks, but it's a lost cause because no sound comes out. God _damn_ it, Ellie, she thinks. I trusted you.

She _really_ can't believe Ellie's repeating the glasses thing.

Ellie is so smug, so determined to play matchmaker, that she's quite happy to ignore the discomfort from both Hardy and Laurel.

Hardy's still giving her a stupid look, and he blinks at Laurel. She blinks back, and he sees how awkward she looks. He turns his gaze on Ellie. "No." He leans back, covers his face, and groans. "Nooo- no, no, no, I can't. For god's _sake,_ Miller!" He sinks low on the sofa, trying to disappear.

Now, Laurel finds that just offensive. She may look like a mess in her 12 hour-old scrubs, but a flat out no is just _rude_. She thinks she even looks kind of cute in her messy bun, but apparently not.

Ellie whacks his shoulder hard. " _Christ_ , Hardy! That's the exact wrong word! Thought you knew the difference like left and right."

Laurel, meanwhile, starts to fantasize about melting into a puddle. Or the ground opening up and swallowing her. Equally appealing options.

"God... no. No, no..." He's repeating that sort of thing in a muffled voice, head in his hands.

Ellie looks flatly at Laurel. "Still attractive?" Hardy looks up to glare at her for that one.

Laurel makes the executive decision to never to do a vitals check on this man again. Too dangerous. Twice in a row it's gone horribly wrong. For now, she's making an excellent impression of a deer in the headlights- not gonna answer that damned question in front of the man himself, no way. The answer is, unfortunately, yes.

Hardy glances at Laurel and then back to Ellie, painfully uncomfortable, and Ellie gives him an incredibly flat look. Clearly, a simple, unexplained 'no' isn't going to get his DS off of his back. "What d'you want me to say, Miller? I can't! I _cannot_ , even- even if I want to. Miller. I told you what was happening."

Oh, now Hardy's going to think that the reason Laurel's been doing free home checks is that she's been itching to get into his bedroom or something! This is so humiliating. 'Even if I want to.' She's not sure if that's a good sound or not, but she's not about to stick around and find out.

Ellie arches her eyebrows very slowly. "What was that, sir? _Even if you want to_?"

Hardy freezes. "...want _ed_ , of course."

Ellie's right back to being smug. "Of course. _Hardy._ "

Laurel can't remember eating any butterflies, but she must have, given the state of her stomach.

Ellie settles herself next to Hardy, stern. "You're humiliating this poor woman, look! Your ex-wife is just that- your _ex_. Yes... You've got a daughter. Yes, things are difficult. All I'm suggesting is that you two go out and bond over some chips. Literally- that is _it_. Because I _know_ you two get along..." Here she winks at Laurel, none too subtly, and the blushing nurse in question pretends not to see- "and I know you understand each other. Hardy. _Please_." Really pleading now, gently gripping his arm- "you're _killing_ yourself. Go on a _bloody_ date, sir, or so _help_ me-" growls- "I will make you a _Tinder profile_."

Laurel has transcended the human existence and is currently moving on to her next stage of life as a tomato. Very still and very red. Would it be appropriate to escape through the window here? These are not the sort of social cues that her mother included in her upbringing.

Hardy glances, horrified, at Laurel. He honestly didn't want to humiliate anyone here. He finds his throat to be very dry all of the sudden. "Uh…" Glances at Ellie, still a little in disbelief.

'Uh...' has never made Laurel feel so mortified.

"...are you just _throwing this on her_?" Hardy whisper-hisses to Ellie as if this will somehow prevent Laurel from hearing.

Ellie rolls her eyes so hard that she thinks she may dislocate them and whacks him again. "She fancies you, you _dolt_ ," she replies, mocking his 'whispering.' His eyes widen in response to this.

No, I don't! No, I don't! No, I don't- huh, strange, Laurel's mouth isn't moving. Has she lost her voice? Maybe she should check her own vitals. Her heart feels like it's beating very quickly. Too quickly. She expects that she'll have to undergo her own pacemaker operation soon.

"Um..." Hardy murmurs again, a little hoarse, this time speaking to Laurel. She's not paying attention, busy as she is with mentally writing her will- all of her things to her family, and her estate should be used to buy a hundred bottles of that awful pinot noir so they may be gifted to Ellie bloody Miller.

Ellie nudges him. Hardy tries again, quiet. "Is- yeah? I mean. You..."

"Ask if she likes chips," Ellie whispers.

"...um. D'you like chips...?" Hardy parrots, glancing uncertainly at Miller; what kind of pick up line is that!?

Laurel's voice is on vacation somewhere. She tries to say yes, but no luck; she can't make any sound come out. She nods instead. It's a tiny movement.

"I can't even eat chips," Hardy mutters, but then he spots her nod and nods back once. "Okay- um. Good. Right. Uh." He's a little alarmed, doesn't remember how to do any of this. Ellie, feeling as if her work is done here, sits back to observe and does not deign to help him again.

"Don't do me any favors, please," Laurel mumbles, her voice completely strangled. She sounds like the victim of an aborted hanging. She doesn't want him to go on a date with her because of heavy coercion. He doesn't even seem attracted to her. Apparently her own cat is out of the bag, though. No denying what Ellie clearly announced.

Hardy flushes a little. "No- no. Never. Um. I'm sorry."

How humiliating. She's not sure what to do with his apology; actually, she's not even sure what he's apologizing _for._

Hardy clears his throat. "Please? If you want." He shrugs a little. "I'll pay and all that."

"Chips?" she squeaks. "You want, um, chips?"

He considers this once more and nods. "With you," he clarifies.

She flushes hotly- where is all of this extra blood coming from? She'd thought she couldn't get any redder.

Hardy tries for a little smile but it's a bit grim.

"Are you sure?" Laurel shoots a look at Ellie. This all still feels like a set up. The pushy little DS has thrown them both under the bus here.

Ellie, who has been more or less ignoring them both up until this point, grins. "He likes you, too, you know."

Laurel's breath catches in her throat. She's fairly certain that Ellie is making that up. Poor woman is delusional. Maybe they should get her some help?

"Oh, Hardy, you're not that subtle," Ellie adds, rolling her eyes.

Unable to look at either of them, Hardy he stares at his socks, quite flushed.

"I should go," Laurel suggests, but once again no sound comes out. This is getting inconvenient. She should learn sign language.

"I mean, you're _alright_ ," Hardy murmurs, shrugging.

Laurel just is not equipped to respond to that.

He feels weird, and awkward, and as he glances at Laurel, he fears that Miller just might be right.

"Umm... thank you?" Laurel tries.

"Sorry. Meant that as an understatement, kind of..." Hardy's voice is uncharacteristically small. "Kind of missed the mark, I think."

Laurel nods uncertainly. He's not actually saying anything and it's freaking her out. "It's fine...?"

"For god's sake, _Hardy_ ," Ellie groans.

Hardy sighs explosively, coming to a decision all at once. "Fine. Yeah, alright." He manages half a smile that quickly grows on its own, watching Laurel now. "D'you want to get chips, then? Tomorrow?"

It's _weird_ to see him smile, but Laurel can't bloody deny that it's attractive. "Um, sure. I'd love that." Her voice is quiet but apparently once again functional.

Hardy nods. "Alright. How about if I text you?" He feels very rusty and suspects that tomorrow will go terribly wrong.

"Sure. I'll- um, yeah, sure." She's not sure what has just happened but she feels a blossoming nervous excitement in her chest. She hitches her bag on her shoulder, thinking she ought to make an escape before things can get even more awkward. She's pretty sure that her friendship with Ellie is dependent on the outcome of this date. Otherwise... Well, Hardy will have so solve a murder case without Miller's help.

Hardy and Ellie both get to their feet after she does.

Ellie squeezes past Hardy. "I'm out, too! Ta!" She's decided that she needs a quick chat with Laurel.

"Er, I'll talk to you soon?" Laurel murmurs to Hardy, edging toward the door.

He nods, waving a little at Laurel. "Yea'- soon! Night." Nods at Ellie, too, in acknowledgment. "Miller."

"Good night!" And finally, Laurel's free, out in the fresh air at last.

"Night, sir!" Ellie hurries after Laurel, leaving Hardy quite suddenly alone and trying to understand what just happened.

Laurel hears Ellie following her and debates whether or not it's okay to punch someone for giving you what you want in the worst way possible.

Sensing this, Ellie keeps a slight distance. "So… How mad at me are you for betraying you?" She's actually a little worried, as much as she's trying to play it off as a joke.

" _Very_ angry," Laurel answers, but there's a tiny smile fighting to take up residence on her lips. "Please be aware that I know where your arteries are, Miller."

"Oh, god," Ellie mutters, hurrying to catch up and unable to see her friend's expression. "I'm _so sorry_ , Laurel, I'm so sorry..."

"If this date doesn't go well..." Laurel warns, but now she's grinning, a little giddy.

"..." Ellie doesn't know what to say, finding herself a little horrified. Clearly, she overstepped. "God, I should have asked first."

Laurel hasn't been on a date since Ben died; she hasn't wanted to- but now she's so very happy to have the chance again. She gives Ellie a spontaneous bear hug.

Ellie's still trying to explain herself when it happens. "You said it was a - a week's crush but I got exc-!"

"You're exactly the friend I need. Told you that, didn't I?" Laurel says, amused and fond.

Ellie laugh-cries, hugging Laurel back and sighing in relief.

"That was _humiliating_ and I would have appreciated some advance warning before that ambush… But thank you. Honestly."

"Yeah, sorry... He really is _shit_. I had too much faith in him."

"He's lovely." Laurel's got a soft smile on her face… she's so far gone.

Ellie's wearing a silly grin, full of happy butterflies about all of this, and she starts laughing. "All right, if you're saying that, I really am no longer worried."

Laurel grins. "Haven't been as excited about anything besides wine night in so long, love. Didn't realize I needed something to look forward to."

"And I _know_ he would've asked you on his own if he wasn't so stuck up on his failed marriage. I know he would," Ellie continues.

"You're excellent at well-times arse kicks, aren't you?"

Ellie shrugs, grinning, clearly proud of this, indeed. "I've been known to place one or two quite well."

"You realize, though, Ell, that you have to see this through, right? Bring Fred if you have to, but you'll be helping me get ready tomorrow. I haven't been on a first date in... Oh, God, six years? Seven?" Suddenly, Laurel finds the prospect twice as frightening.

Ellie laughs. "Oh, you'd be fine on your own. I will, though, I'm not that heartless. It'd been at least that long for me as well, til recently..." This prompts a little sigh.

"I really want this to go well, Ellie," Laurel confesses softly.

"You'll do just fine. It's been even longer for him, you know."

The nurse straightens, wriggles a bit, full of nervous energy. "Even so."

"Oh, it'll be fine."

"I should go home, try to get some beauty sleep."

"Yeah, he is _old._ Sorry, love."

Laure giggles. "Didn't even think to ask, don't remember from his chart. How old is he?"

Ellie nods and slows to a stop; they've reached the crossroads where they'll go their separate ways. She clicks her tongue at the question. "Two years older than me. Forty-four. Now _I_ feel old."

" _Oh._ That's a 14-year difference."

"He looks older, if you ask me," Ellie adds with a snort.

"Hope that won't bother him." The difference doesn't bother Laurel in the least, but… well, it's not insignificant.

"Mm, 14… Dunno. You'll find out." It's said very kindly, though.

"Hmm." That's a sort of depressing, scary thought for Laurel. She can't do anything about her age...

Sensing this, Ellie nudges her.

"Mm?" Laurel looks up.

"It's going to be fine." Warm smile. "See you tomorrow."

"Maybe." Laurel's unconvinced. "Good night, Ellie."

"G'night."


	7. Chapter 7

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Laurel? Sorry. Said I'd text tomorrow, but.._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Oh, hi! Um, silly question, but I suppose I shouldn't just call you Mr. Hardy anymore... What do you want me to call you?_

Hardy gulps, thinking that she's right, and everyone's going to know something's going on if he and Laurel go around calling one another by their first names.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Very good point. Um._

Laurel stares at her phone, flummoxed. Should she even reply to that? As she thinks, she starts getting ready for bed.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Yeah, just call me Alec._

This feels really awkward, he thinks. He goes to get ready to sleep, too, trying to ignore his phone and sweating over it instead… So much for ignoring it, it's not working at all. He checks his phone, kicking himself for doing it.

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _I'll try to remember that. Please don't be offended if I say Alex instead of Alec.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _I've got a brother and a dad named Alex so it might come out by reflex, fair warning._

Her text makes him laugh a little.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _As long as you don't feel like you're on a date with your brother or your dad... Not sure if I'm up to their standards. We Alecs are a lower breed._

Laurel chuckles.

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Oh, THAT definitely won't be an issue. As the for the Alex vs Alec debate, haven't met many Alecs so far, but the few I've met have been an impressive lot.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _I should say, in the interest of full disclosure, that you're the only one I've met._

She lays down in bed, smiling at her phone, feeling like a lovesick teenager and _loving_ it.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _I had a small feeling that might be the case. Hope you don't meet any less-shabby specimens any time soon._

Leaning against the counter to text, he goes about his evening routine, brushing his teeth and smiling a little.

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Every Alec I've met so far has been grumpy, caring, and attractive in glasses. Not sure if my sample size is big enough to achieve statistical significance or not._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _As long as your margin of error is low, I think you should be fine in this case._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Good point. I'll let you know my findings upon further research.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _I'll be continuing my studies tomorrow over chips. Looking forward to expanding my knowledge base._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Happy to assist._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _See you tomorrow, then? :(  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _Sorry, not the emoji I meant to use!  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _*:)_

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _I'd send a relieved face if I could tell which one it was.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _There are way too many of these bloody things._

She snorts, sliding under the covers and flipping off the light.

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _I wish I could say I was an optometry nurse, but I'm not. Can't help with the eyesight, I'm afraid._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _More glasses for you, then._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _If that is to be my burden, I shall bear it if I must._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _when's your lunch?_

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _oh, is this meant to be a lunchtime event?_

Crap, she thinks. So he'll see her in scrubs again. Not attractive on her at all.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _yes, is lunch okay...?  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _not sure if I'll have to stay late or not..._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _If at all possible, I'd prefer a little later. Depending on how many patients I have, lunch is sometimes a 4 minute affair.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _I don't mind eating a late dinner, though._

While this is true, it's certainly not her only motivation.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _shit, sorry. Okay, I'll keep you updated then... how late is too late?_

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Don't worry about it being too late. Just let me know when you're ready and I will be, too.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _I know how important your job is, Alec. It doesn't bother me._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _it's a date._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Can't wait._

She's _not_ going to tell him how giddy that text makes her feel.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _I appreciate it your understanding. I can imagine how busy yours must be mid-day too._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _So long as you're flexible, I can be, too.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _Anyway, long day tomorrow. I should get to sleep. Good night, Alec._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Night._

All of these uses of his first name weird him out a bit, but not necessarily in a bad way… it's just been a _long_ time since he's gone by anything but Hardy. He can't remember the last time he felt _butterflies_ when going to bed- anxious, nervous, excited? Maybe all of the above, everything. It's weird and a little uncomfortable, but it _does_ seem to be doing a lot for his stress already… He's not been thinking so extensively about Tess in the past hour, anyway.

* * *

The next day, surprisingly enough, flies by. It's a long shift, 5 AM til 5 PM, and it's a busy one. Laure's glad that Alec said it was alright to switch to a dinner date, because she doesn't actually end up getting lunch today. Before she knows it, though, she's texting Ellie and standing in front of her closet.

[text from Laurel to Ellie] _Help?_

How casually is she supposed to dress? She has no idea. She stares at her clothing, bemused.

[text from Ellie to Laurel] _On my way!_

Ellie's been looking forward to this all day… She's there soon enough, knocking on the door.

Laurel races down the stairs to let her friend in. "I'm so glad you're here!" she pants, feeling slightly frantic. "Dress me, please?"

Ellie laughs. "Lead the way!" Thankfully, she isn't required to be at the station for late work tonight.

Laurel drags Ellie to her closet and makes some helpless flapping gestures in the direction of the selection.

Keeping a keen eye out for anything that looks particularly flattering, Ellie flips through Laurel's closet, emitting appropriate gasps at the cuteness of this or that. "Oh, Laurel..." She shakes her head. "I hope he appreciates what you've got here. Not many men do, if I'm honest. You know he's just going to wear what he always does, right? Doubt he's _got_ anything else- oh, I should go out and get something for him too..." She makes a vague noise of disapproval.

Laurel laughs, relaxing a bit now that she's not alone with her thoughts. "If I didn't think he was attractive in what he usually wears, I doubt I'd be going on a date with him, anyway." She leans against the wall as she watches Ellie evaluate. "What are you thinking, love?"

"I like your judgment," Ellie says with a snort. "Okay, what is _this_!?" She holds up a garmet so Laurel can see.

"It's called a sundress, Ellie," Laurel says with a giggle. It's her favorite, soft yellow with subtle lace, falling to just above her knees and with pretty, dainty straps at the top.

"Well, _wear this_. Wait-"

Laurel waits.

"No, wait. What's this one?"

The second dress Ellie holds up is teal, sleek, form- fitting but not overly formal. Just enough to make it clear that this isn't an entirely casual outing.

"I like that one, too. Which one's better, d'ya think?"

"Mm… Well, it's nice enough out for either, I reckon. Just depends. Summery, or a little more evening air?"

"Mm... Summery, I suppose? Just in case he's dressed more casually. The yellow one can be dressed up or down."

Ellie nods decisively, gesturing to the sundress. "Yea. Good thinking. I'll step out a minute, you try that on… I honestly think- well, you won't go wrong. He's probably going to have another heart attack no matter what you pick." She shakes her head, but she's smiling.

Laurel smiles, her cheeks turning pink. "You think?"

Heading for the door, Ellie winks. " _Yes_. No doubt."

Laurel does a little wiggle of excitement and changes as soon as Ellie steps out. Then she follows, the dress swishing around her knees. "Thoughts?" she asks shyly.

Out in the hall, Miller stuffs her phone away again to get a good look. "Oh, Laurel! _Good_ choice. Yes." Her hands fly to her mouth as she steps around Laurel to take in the way it falls. "You look absolutely brilliant, already. I'm not surprised."

"Oh, you're entirely too kind, Ellie MIller. _Thank_ you, love." Laurel's smile is huge, splitting her cheeks. She's so excited for her date, it's ridiculous. She's 30 but feeling like she's 13.

"It's so soft, too, right?" Ellie carefully feels an edge. "Seriously! Soft!" Then her phone dings with a text and she rolls her eyes. "Sorry. One sec."

"I won't keep you, Ellie, but your help has just been invaluable. I'd still be in my scrubs if left to my own devices."

Ellie beams. "Of course! Now- you're going to be just fine."

"Expect either a giddy call or a sad one at the end of the date. Either way, you'll be informed." Laurel grins right back. "No escaping the fruits of your labor, Cupid."

"Oh god, my mother would be so proud..." Ellie replies, snorting. She winks and kisses Laurel's cheek. "Talk to you then, love. Good luck."

Laurel returns the gesture, following Ellie to the front door to see her out. "Bye, Ellie. You're the best."

"Knock 'em dead!" Ellie calls as she goes.

"I'll try!" Laurel sets off to curl her hair, and do her makeup, and paint her nails... Important prep work that Alec will undoubtedly not notice.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _I don't remember how to do this, Miller. Please help!_

"No, no, don't send, _don't send_!" It's combination of growling and pleading with his phone once he realizes that he's misdirected the text. Many buttons are pressed, and he has no way of telling whether or not it went through.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Hi, Laurel. Getting off now. An hour, maybe?_

Laurel does, in fact, receive the first text. She starts laughing and doesn't stop until her sides ache.

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Further information on Alecs: they are mediocre texters at best. At least they're adorable. Anyway, an hour sounds perfect... unless, of course, you're trying to take out Ellie Miller instead... In which case I'd suggest you check the intended recipient._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _That wasn't meant for you! I tried to stop it from sending!  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _...Laurel, it was nice knowing you._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _I'll speak kindly of you in the eulogy._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _You're too kind.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _there's only one chippy so I'll be coming back to life around there. Just ask anyone, they'll show you to it._

Laurel's more or less ready to go at this point. She picks out shoes and a light sweater and waits for the hour to be up.

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _I think I can make that work. See you soon._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _sounds good._

* * *

Hardy shows up a little early. He slumps in a booth in the corner, fidgeting awkwardly as he waits for Laurel.

Before Laurel knows it, she's standing outside of the chippy staring in... here she goes! She takes a deep breath and walks in.

Her date straightens up when he sees her and stuffs his phone away (talking to Miller, who else?) - gives a small wave and a little smile. Luckily for his nerves, the place is not too busy.

She spots him almost immediately and heads over. "Hello," she says, feeling shy and bashful but very pleased. "You look nice." He always looks nice, in her opinion... damn him.

Hardy's hands clasp on the table- "Hi! Oh-" He glances down at himself; he doesn't hear this often. Apparently, Miller's advice must be good. Looking back up at Laurel, he smiles a little more. "Er- thanks. Likewise, that's- never seen you in anything but scrubs, have I?"

Laurel starts giggling and for a moment, she can't stop. She slides across from him in the booth and shakes her head. "You have. Several times." Most of her visits to his house have been in street clothing.

"Oh." His eyes widen. "That's true, isn't it?" Oops.

"Nothing to worry about. I was still around you in a nursing capacity, so I was sort of wearing mental scrubs."

"Still, um."

She's amused but thinks it's endearing. Not at all offended. He's just so... male.

"Yeah... No, we haven't really ever done anything outside of that capacity..." He snaps his mouth shut, trying a laugh that really comes out as some kind of sniff. He's doing brilliantly, already… Why did he let Miller badger him into doing this, again?

"I can go home and change, if you'd like," Laurel offers with a bit of a smirk. "If you prefer me in scrubs." She gently bumps his foot with her own under the table. "Some detective you are," she teases.

"Please, I already know what you look like in scrubs."

She hopes he actually _likes_ the dress. There's no telling.

He shrugs a little shyly and fights back a bigger smile. "It's lovely."

"Thank you," she says warmly. "So, um, chips?" She feels the slightest bit awkward. Definitely glad to be there, but awkward nonetheless. Eating will give her something to do.

Hardy straightens more. "Right! We have... these little menus." Paper ones. Small town. He plucks them from where they're tucked into the napkin dispenser.

Laurel laughs. "Mm, I'm a simple girl, me. Chips and vinegar is all I need. Nothing fancy."

"Brilliant."

"I suppose this makes me a terrible Brit, but I don't actually like fish. So fish and chips is not my deal," she admits.

"Oh, really? Technically I can't eat either, but... Well I s'pose it's not the end of the world if I'm careful." He shrugs. She'd know better than he would, probably.

"Ah, you've got a nurse with you. If you have another heart attack, I can always do CPR until we can get you to a hospital."

"Oh, thank you." His tone is a bit wry, but he finds himself amused anyway. "Always appreciate it when I'm kept alive."

"You'll find that I'm excellent at that." Laurel's joking, of course, though she _is_ vaguely concerned.

He laughs a little. "Think I already have."

Oh, she's so glad she volunteered to check in on him at home. "Shall we go up and order?"

"Yes, let's." He shoots her a quick smile and stands.

She rises, smiling back and blushing lightly, and straightens her dress.

Following suit, he thinks a bit. He can tell she's put in effort. He _has_ got a daughter, after all... Unfortunately, though, he has zero idea what to do about it any more.

Laurel places her order at the register, the smell of chips hitting her and making her stomach gurgle embarrassingly. She had temporarily forgotten that she didn't have lunch today.

Hardy waits beside her to order, and the sound makes him a little bit smug. "Was that you? Bit of a chip fan, are you?"

"Absolutely not. Wasn't me. It had to be Miller. She's got to be hiding around here somewhere." She grins broadly. "Maybe just a _little_."

Hardy's eyes dart suspiciously around the room. "I swear to god, Miller..."

This brings a chuckle. "That was a joke, Alec."

He grins and very gently nudges her. "So was that."

"...though if she didn't have Fred, I wouldn't put it past her."

"Hah."

She nudges him back, biting her lip and grinning.

"God, she would, wouldn't she?"

"She's quite possibly insane. In the best way, though." It's very, very fondly said. She and Ellie are fast becoming excellent friends.

"Fred _would_ give her away." Hardy agrees, finding himself unable to abstain from smiling warmly about it. "Oh, she is."

"Ah, Fred. The downfall of spying mothers everywhere… He's such a sweetheart, though. Definitely his mum's child."

"You know, he's actually quite quiet... But he draws all the attention."

"It's those cheeks!" Laurel suggests. "They're irresistible!"

"Oh, no doubt." He shakes his head, still smiling, and realizes quite suddenly that the bored teenager at the register is still waiting on his order… he hastens to order plain chips, just like Laurel did a minute ago.

"What was Daisy like as a child?" Laurel murmurs, changing the subject slightly once he's done and they're waiting. The question is soft, tentative. She doesn't want to bring up memories of his ex-wife since there's something apparently bothering him about that situation this week, but she knows that the girl is also a huge part of Alec's life, and she wants to make it clear to him that she's happy about that.

"Well." He tilts his head, arms loosely crossed. His smile is soft. "Particularly deviant, she was. Oh, and adorable, obviously. Very, very round; and very vocal, must say." He can hear that little bit of hesitation in her voice; she's got nothing to worry about, and he's quick to want to assure her of that with a detailed answer.

Laurel laughs. "That sounds very familiar. I know I caught her at a bad time, but when I talked to her later, she really seemed like a lovely girl. You did a fantastic job with her."

"Ah... Thank you. Yeah. I really am _so_ sorry about that..." He turns to look directly at her for the apology.

"You genuinely have nothing to apologize for. She reacted to something that scared her. I more than understand. And she was very sweet when she apologized."

"All the same..." He shakes his head. "I'm glad you understand."

Laurel smiles, gently changing the subject. "I've got a sister her age, did I tell you?"

"Oh? You've got a handful of siblings, isn't that right?"

"I've got six siblings, yes."

" _Six_? Age gaps, I imagine? Where d'you fall?" He has a very, _very_ vague idea that they may have talked about this at one point already… perhaps when he was heavily medicated?

"Alex is 40, John is 36, then there's me. As for the younger ones, Abbie and Kathryne are 26, Thom is 24, and Grace is 15."

"Blimey." It hits him then.

"Mm. Full household, growing up."

"...is it too early to ask your age?" He looks at her subtly for a moment, trying to read her. "I'm curious now."

She laughs. "You're not supposed to ask a woman her age!" she chastises teasingly.

He smiles weakly. "Hence the disclaimer..."

"I'm 30, if you _must_ know." She lightly pokes his side, grinning.

He whistles low. "You're just a spring chicken." He comments, smirking.

"Is that... um, a problem?" Laurel's been nervous about this. Very nervous. She'd even briefly considered lying about it, actually, except it would be so easy to check.

"Tch, I dunno... Are you old enough to drive?"

"Oi!"

"Can I see you license, ma'am?" he asks in his best very-serious-PC voice.

She laughs and pokes him again, which makes him half-grin. "Why, am I getting a ticket for speeding?" she retorts. "Moving too fast on a first date?"

"Well, _you_ weren't the one that asked about age... I expect Miller told you mine, since you haven't. What d'you think?"

Laurel chuckles. "You've got it, detective. She told me last night. I saw it on your chart when you first came onto my floor, but I couldn't remember."

"Oh, of course. I know, it goes off the chart." That one's meant as a bit of a pun.

"It doesn't bother me," Laurel says softly, answering is original question, "unless it bothers you." She quirks an eyebrow, gives a half smile, and waits nervously for his response.

He shrugs. "Ah, I don' hardly think about it. It's a bit of a surprise, but..." He chuckles a little, still kind of floored that she'd be interested in him at all, given how young she is. He's old, set in his ways, already divorced, grouchy...

"Oh, so it's not a big deal, _good_ ," Laurel says with more palpable relief then she meant to admit to. Well, that's embarrassing. Clearly she's way too into this date. She's been out of the dating game for a while, but she thinks she's supposed to play it cool and pretend she's indifferent… Ah, well, too late.

He's got to snort at her enthusiasm. "Now your age's coming through," he teases, smug.

"Hey! That was rude."

"It only matters less as ya go," he reassures her, laughing.

The chips come out and she grabs one chip from each basket, stuffing them both in her mouth. "Stole one of your chips in revenge," she informs him after she swallows.

"Oi!"

"You were asking for it."

He gives her the sort of look he frequently gives Daisy- a dad look, to be sure.

"I know that you're an officer of the law, Alec, but I live by my own rules. Anarchy is more my style," she teases, grinning.

Hardy sighs deeply at this. "I signed up for this, didn't I? A deviant?"

"Well, erm, honestly, Miller signed you up for it." She hopes he isn't regretting it at all.

"Oh, that's comforting."

"Yes, I'm a great comfort! I'll steal food from you any time you're upset. Anarchists are very sweet people." All of her nerves have clearly turned her a bit silly tonight.

He slides back into the booth and pokes at a chip. "Oh, thank god," he comments dryly.

She follows him to the booth and douses her chips in vinegar til they're swimming in the stuff, then proceeds to stuff another one in her mouth. The taste makes her wiggle in the seat, _very_ pleased. _God_ , she was hungry.

He's totally not judging, but… he quirks his eyebrows. Maybe judging a little, on second thought. That's a _lot_ of vinegar.

"Didn't get lunch today," she informs him. "And _no_ , you're not allowed to comment on my chip habits."

He munches on one, looking doubtfully at the rest.

"This is the only proper way to eat chips," Laurel explains. "If you say otherwise, you're wrong."

"Pfft. I s'pose you're the expert?"

"I _am_!"

"There it is," Hardy says, smirking.

"You may now bow down to my authority."

"Our deviant." He steals one of hers.

". No, this isn't deviance at all!" Laurel protests. "This is the one area of life where I follow the laws. The chip laws are above all others."

Hardy quirks an eyebrow. "Oh. Clearly."

"And _you_ are stealing, Mr. Police Officer."

"Me? Nah, I've got my own, see." Innocently, he eats another one of his own chips. "What's the legislation?"

"The Statute of Royal Chippies says that you're required to drown your chips in vinegar to put them out of their misery," she informs him seriously, then leans in a bit. "I don't trust that innocent face. I'd steal one of yours except you haven't properly dressed them."

Both eyebrows up now. "No," he disagrees, munching. "I have a very trustworthy face."

"No, you don't. It's the beard that ruins it." The admittedly appealing beard...

"Pfft. My chips run naked through hill and dale."

"I am not amused."

"Then become a reverse-thief and _dress_ them, for god's sake, get some clothes on these children!"

She's been eating her chips steadily throughout the conversation, and she reaches for another to discover that she's eaten all of them in about five minutes flat. Oops.

"Go, go, go!" Grinning, he gestures at the vinegar.

Chuckling and feeling triumphant, she pours a tiny bit of the vinegar onto his chips, aware that most people don't love the stuff the way she does.

Hardy pushes the basket to the middle of the table.

"You'll come around someday. I swear it," Laurel promises.

"Aw, now they've got bonnets but nothing else. Wee bit more. Go on." It's not like he's going to eat them, anyway.

"You're going to stop eating them, aren't you?"

"Mm." He pretends it's not set in stone and munches another. "We'll see."

She pushes the vinegar towards him. "You like your chips naked. I like mine in a full nun's habit. Considering they're _your_ chips, I think you should be the wardrobe master here."

"Thought you were the executive anarchist. I'm just a pawn!"

"I'm making an exception because we're on a first date," she informs him primly.

" _Ah_. Well, then." Hardy nods because clearly this all makes sense now.

"You're supposed to tone yourself down on first dates, rights?" 100% teasing, Laurel nudges his foot again with her own.

His eyes widen. "Oh, are you s'posed to?" As he speaks, though, his expression melts into a smirk. "I know, I know... I'll tone it down a little."

She chuckles. "Actually, you've toned it up to a confusing level. Haven't said a single grumpy thing in half an hour!"

After a beat, he finally nudges her foot back. "Mm, I can change that."

Laurel grins at the nudge. He's playing along and she loves it.

"Chip thief," he accuses. She's got to live up to the name, so she takes another one and winks. "Wouldn't want to confuse," he adds, shaking his head.

"Ah, thanks. Now I remember who I'm with. I couldn't recall, for a moment."

Hardy has to smile, and he finds to his surprise that he's doing a lot of that tonight. _Thank you_. For this. It helps. He's not saying it out loud, but he means it all the same. "Didn't you know I've got two moods?" he teases.

Laurel does even hear this, as she's just come to the sudden realization that she's finished his chips, too, and she turns cherry red. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that. My stomach has a mind of its own."

He blinks down, surprised.

"Would you like me to buy you some more?" she asks awkwardly.

"Nah, I'm done." He leans back with a quick smile, shaking his head a bit and thinking that somehow, she's managed to make this _cute_. "That's enough for me."

"Sorry," she says again, plucking at her dress. He must think she's a pig.

"Got to watch my girlish figure and all that," he tells her. "Don't be."

This surprises her into a laugh despite her mortification, and she relaxes slightly.

"I couldn't have finished them," Hardy elaborates. "Not without... getting sick." Bit of a shrug.

She nods at his reference to his health. "Salads next time, then, maybe?" That feels a bit presumptuous, which she doesn't notice til she's already said it.

Hardy shrugs again. "It's more that some things stay down better than others. How's that for easy on the first night?"

"If you'd learn to keep up with your surgeons' appointments, you might get to the bottom of that," Laurel hints gently. She really can't turn off the urge to worry about his health.

"Ahh, you nurse types!" he teases.

"How pesky of us, trying to keep you alive!" He's making her feel a little better, somehow, and she smiles at him.

"I do my best to make it fun and challenging." He grins a bit as he says it.

"Oh, is that what you call that? Challenging, I'll give you that bit, for sure."

"Hah."

"Anyway, are you ready to leave? I'm afraid that if we don't, I'll find myself stealing chips from complete strangers." Laurel tucks some of her hair behind her ears, avoiding looking at the empty chip boxes.

"Off we go," Hardy agrees with a nod, stretching his legs out under the table briefly.

Laurel's cheeks go pink again, and she stands up to cover that fact, smiling shyly at him. She's still trying to figure out how anyone could hate him.

He gets to his feet after her and throws on his coat, following her as she starts toward the exit. "Did you walk or drive or...?" she murmurs. She walked, herself.

"Walked."

"Shall we walk back together?" she suggests in response, a little shy. They live in the same direction, anyway… That, and she's not ready for the night to end.

"Ah- good, yes." He sticks his hands in his pockets and starts off, meandering in the direction of his little cottage. It's nice to feel like he's not in a rush.

Laurel smiles up at him and starts walking. The hands-in-pockets are a clear sign not to get too close, so she walks comfortably a few feet away... She's not sure how to gauge how he's feeling and finds herself almost wishing that Ellie was spying. Ellie is able to consistently interpret Hardy behaviour.

"Well, thank you for coming," Hardy murmurs after a minute or two of comfortable silence. "I..."

"Thanks for inviting me," Laurel replies. "Even though it was coerced." She winks at him, though she's not sure he'll notice in the dark.

"Hah, well… _barely_." His voice is warmer than she's used to hearing it. "It wasn't hard to agree to."

This coaxes out a laugh and a blush. "It was hard for me to agree with, honestly."

Stricken, he looks over at her in the dark. "Oh, I imagine... I'm sorry she put you in that corner."

"Mostly because I was so nervous my voice wouldn't work," she clarifies, grinning.

"Oh." He swallows.

"Shouldn't have admitted to her during our wine night that I thought you were a bit fit," she says with a grin. "It was supposed to stay between the two of us but she's a meddler."

He quirks his eyebrows… he can hear her grin, but he wishes he could see it. "Well. I'd say she is. Kept that secret a whole of two days."

There's no denying it. "Never telling her a secret again."

"Probably for the best," Hardy agrees.

She wonders how long it will take for Ellie to share her alcohol thing.

"Listen..." Hardy starts, and she glances in his direction again. "I just want to say… This helped. Took my mind off of things."

That's one of the loveliest things Laurel thinks he could have said. She wants so badly for him to relax some, be happier, him and Ellie both... her only friends in Broadchurch. Good people but people hardened by circumstances.

"Are you sure this isn't part of your checking up? Treatment plan of some sort?"

She throws her head back and laughs. "Glad to help, truly, but... no, this wasn't in my care plan."

He grins.

"If this is medicine, though, then I'm taking it, too. Odd, considering _I_ don't have a heart problem."

"Oh! Good. Well, I'm sure you still get stressed plenty."

"I do. But nothing a good glass of wine can't cure," she assures him happily.

"Mm. Sounds like it…" He clears his throat. "To be honest… I was a little concerned I might not really see you again- unless I ended up in the hospital again."

"Oh, really?" She's absurdly pleased by this admission.

"Small town, but." He shrugs. "I don't go out much."

"You know, I live just a street behind you," Laurel reminds him. "You're always welcome, of course."

He tilts his head in her direction, acknowledging the offer. "Thanks."

"But to be honest, Alec... I'm glad we're seeing each other in a non-medical capacity for once."

"I am, too. It seems like Ellie and you have bonded, though, so I really shouldn't have worried." He laughs a bit at that.

"Oh, she's the loveliest person I've met in a long time," Laurel says genuinely. "So long as she'll tolerate me, I'm sticking around."

Hardy smiles warmly. "I have a feeling she's a bit attached."

"I bought her a wine glass and you know what they say about wine glasses... they're the entryway drug to true friendship. Set her on a life of addiction, I did."

"Some influence you are."

"A life of crime is the only truly fun life. That's why you became a cop, right? Because you don't know how to have fun?" She reaches across the distance between them, grinning, to poke his arm.

He gives a weak shrug in response to the poke, but he's half grinning to himself anyway. "Guilty."

Laurel laughs, and buoyed by his reaction, moves _slightly_ closer as they walk. "Always knew you were."

Hardy shoots her a tiny smile and pauses at the place where they'll split off to go their separate ways.

Laurel has to school her expression so it doesn't fall when they stop. She's had such a lovely time that she doesn't want to part.

"Well. Night, Laurel. Thanks." He nods and briefly picks up the small smile again.

Laurel nods back, her heart stuttering. "Um. Good night... Sleep well." Trying hard not to make everything sound like a question.

"You, too. And Laurel... Yeah. Had a nice time. Thanks for taking the time."

"I did, too." This is more genuine, the corners of her mouth perking up, a bit of a query in her expression. She's not exactly sure how to react to being thanked for going on a date.

One last nod and a little wave as he starts off, and she watches him, frozen, supposing with some disappointment that he didn't _actually_ have a good time. He wouldn't be walking away like this, if he had. "Alec, wait."

Hardy pauses, one eyebrow quirked, and turns back to face her.

She approaches him slowly and stands up on her tiptoes to press a tiny kiss to his cheek before pulling away with a soft, slightly sad smile. He watches her, wide-eyed, and doesn't move. "Sweet dreams, Alec."

He gives her a little smile, and she decides that she _needs_ to talk to Ellie.

"You, too," Hardy says finally. "Night, Laurel."

Laurel nods in return, gently pats his arm, and turns toward her own street.

He heads off toward his house again, finding himself with quite a lot to think about.

* * *

As soon as Laurel gets in her house, she's got her phone in hand, ringing Ellie. She needs the Hardy interpreter.

Luckily for her, Ellie's been waiting for the call.

"Laurel!" she answers brightly. "Are you alive?"

"Ellie, what happened?" As if Ellie would be able to answer that without a single detail about the night. "Alive... Erm, yes, I suppose." Laurel starts pacing the small bottom floor of her house.

"Oh, god..." Ellie murmurs to herself. She draws up a chair in her home and sits. "What did he do? Ugh, that _wanker_ , I am going to- to! I'm going to talk to him."

"No, don't!" Slight panic. "He was not obligated to enjoy the date. It was going so well, or at least I thought it was! He even laughed a few times! I should have known that was a sign that something was wrong."

"Pff- whoa! Wait, he _actually_ laughed? What does that sound like?"

"Mhm, like three times. Kind of like a lawn mower starting."

Ellie sighs ruthlessly. "Ugh." She's half-snorting, though. "Oh my god, why can I picture that?"

"It's just... did I do something wrong?" Laurel curls up on her sofa, still in her sundress.

"Why? What else happened? Laughing's usually a good sign… Even for him. I don't think he laughs unless he can't help it."

"At the very end, Ellie, he didn't even want to walk me home. He just said 'thanks for taking the time, good night,' and we went our separate ways."

Her friend groans. "Oh, Hardy... Hardy, Hardy... _Alec_..." She's saying his name the same way he said it when he told them not to use it upon first visiting the Miller house.

"I thought it was lovely, but maybe not," Laurel concludes in a little voice.

"Laurel..."

"I kissed his cheek 'cause I couldn't just leave it, and he looked like he didn't know what to do with that at all."

"There's a chance... he was just..." Ellie's ruefully laughing. "Oh, Laurel, I am so sorry. Really, he didn't know what to do? How did he ever get married?"

"I think I was just more into it than he was. That's okay, of course, just... I thought I'd read the situation differently."

Ellie sucks in a breath, debating on how to say what she's thinking. "I mean... it's possible. But Laurel, if I know one thing, it's that he's horribly emotionally constipated- or, at least, he's _terrible_ at expressing what he feels." She lets out an annoyed sigh. "You know I didn't hear him laugh once for the first six months I knew him? And then it was only at something I did. Honestly, Laurel. This man is a mess. If there was even a moment where it _wasn't_ awkward or frustrating, that's a good sign in my book."

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Still, Laurel can't help but feel a little disappointed, a little dejected. "It was very nice to see him laugh, I've got to say. It was the slightest bit awkward at the beginning and pretty awkward at the end, but most of the time it was so happy."

"I know he didn't mean to make me feel like it went badly, even if he wasn't thrilled with the date, 'cause he's too good for that. It just won't surprise me if I don't hear from him again." She tries not to sound too sad about that. Hopeless, she is.

"Mm, he's not good with beginnings and endings, but... No, you're right. He wouldn't do that intentionally. _Ugh_ , God, he's such a knob. Oh- listen, I've got a solution, or at least an idea."

"Oh, God. Ellie, did you know that you terrify me? What's your idea?"

Ellie laughs. "Don't they say to terrify yourself at least once a day?"

"Something like that, I suppose." Despite herself, Laurel's laughing, too. It's very cheering to have a friend.

"Okay, I'm going to diligently run things by you from now on before I do anything," Ellie concedes.

"Good idea," Laurel says with a little smirk. "...though if I'm being honest, you probably know what's best better than I do."

"Anyway, it wouldn't be odd of me to call and ask how it went. I'll just call- ask. Nothing else. Won't tell him we talked or anything."

"Mm, okay. Will you report back to me?"

"Yes, but I won't give you details, either. It's only fair." Ellie laughs again, slightly devious.

"Always pegged you for a spy," Laurel agrees, sighing. "Alright."

"I've gotten more nosy, that's true."

"Just know that if you withhold something important, I'm only buying awful pinot noir for our next wine night."

Ellie snorts. "I won't lie, love. That's a promise. Especially with that threat."

"I just want to know if he enjoyed himself or not. That's all I care about... God, Ell, I sound like a teenage mooning over some boy." Laurel pauses, debating whether or not to tell Ellie what she's thinking.

Ellie chuckles to herself a little. "You do, a bit. And I'm the awful friend who can't stop with the dreaming of her two friends hitting it off. I'll know immediately whether he enjoyed it or did it to appease us."

She a smiles a little smile. "Glad someone has hope for us, then. Lost my fiance a few years back and haven't been on a date since then. Guess that's why I'm already too emotionally invested."

"Oh, Laurel… I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"It's not something I talk about much. You couldn't have known."

"Oh, God, I'm such an arse."

"No, love, not at all! But thank you. This is the first time I've _wanted_ to go on a date."

"Are you sure? I'll stop right now, you say the word." Ellie can't help but feel guilty regardless.

"I needed this. Seriously. Even if it doesn't end well. Despite the awkwardness, it was a surprisingly gentle re-introduction into the world of dating."

Ellie sighs uncertainly. "Alright, dear... but if at any point I'm too much, just give me a shout. I won't take it badly, I swear to god."

Laurel laughs softly. "I will. But I'm pretty sure that won't happen. It was three- mm, almost four- years ago that I lost Ben. It's time to start moving forward and stop looking back. Well-timed kicks in the arse are your specialty, remember?"

Her friend nods to herself, biting biting her lip and letting out a weak laugh. "Maybe, but I don't _actually_ want anyone to get hurt… believe it or not."

"Of course you don't. I know that. You're much too kind for that. And no matter how Hardy felt about it, _I_ had a good time. Even if this is all I get, I'm glad I went. Never would have without you not-so-gently nudging us."

Ellie laughs, her mood improving a bit. "That's right! And no matter what he thinks, he _did_ need it, too. Going to worry right into his grave, I'm afraid."

Laurel hadn't meant to make Ellie feel bad- it hadn't even occurred to her that Ellie could see it that way. She'd just wanted to explain herself since this is all making her feel a tad out of place and immature. "That doesn't exactly surprise me," she agrees with a smile. "Alright, ring him and let me know what he says, yeah?"

"Yes'm. I'll be back."

"Thanks, Ell."

* * *

A few minutes later, Ellie rings up Laurel.

"Hi!" The nurse answers, trying not to be anxious.

"Guess who didn't just sigh at me when I called?"

"Oh? What'd he say, Ellie? Please don't leave me in suspense!"

"It was more in the tone... And in what he _didn't_ say."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he didn't once bring up work, for example. Didn't change the subject. Laurel, that is _massive_."

"Yeah?" She's starting to feel cautiously hopeful, butterflies in her stomach instead of dread. "Do you think... mm, do you think he wants to do it again?"

"I think he'll think of it, yes. I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying not to think too far down the line, right now, but I think he definitely wants to see you again."

Laurel can't answer for a moment because she's rolling around her bed with a grin on her face, attempting to stop herself from squealing. Good news. "Oh, _Ellie_ , I so hope you're right! Thank you for spying for me!"

"None of that _tone_ \- you know the one- it was like he was discussing the weather with interest." Ellie laughs. "Of course! Britain's best spy! Or Broadchurch's, maybe."

"Ah, I know the tone." Laurel's grinning. "Should I text him? Or is that too forward? I don't remember how to do this, Ell."

"Mm, I wish I knew that one. All I know is that right now, he wouldn't be disappointed."

"Maybe just to tell him I'm glad we went out?"

"That's a good idea. He's a bit thick. Repetition is necessary," Ellie informs Laurel with a snort.

Laurel laughs. "That's fair. Maybe I'll do that, then."

"You might get something back in words that way, too." Bit of a sighs. "Screw the brooding schtick."

Laurel's voice is completely happy. For the first time in a while, she's not thinking of Ben at all. "I'm so thrilled about all of this, Ellie. Thank you so much." Soft and earnest. Grateful to her pushy friend.

"Of course, dear... I didn't see this coming, but I'm so glad to see both of you looking happier. _God_ , it makes me so happy. Gives me hope."

"Did he tell you that I ate all of my chips and most of his?"

"Pfft! No, he failed to mention it, ha!"

"It was embarrassing, but I hadn't gotten to eat lunch, and it just happened. Oops." She wants to hug Ellie right about now. Rolling over, she puts the phone on speaker so she can switch apps while they talk. "Okay, I'm texting him now!"

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _It was such a lovely evening... Couldn't be more glad that we went out._

Ellie laughs. "Laurel, you're adorable. Wait til that fact hits him, hah! Oh my god. Okay," she adds, listening in.

"Adorable?" Laurel wrinkles her nose. "I think you mean pig-like. I'll tell you what he says if he replies. Maybe he's already gone to bed." There's a slight pause but then she gets a reply.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Likewise. Thanks for forgiving my uncertainty last night and coming anyway... I had a very nice time.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _We'll have to do it again sometime, if you're up for it. Maybe I'll gain a better taste for vinegar in that time._

Ellie chuckles again, trying to dispel Laurel's fears. "You can't help being hungry! Even Alec Hardy's been known to devour something I've brought him in ten seconds flat after telling me I shouldn't bother! He's got a daughter, too; he knows how much we young women eat!"

Laurel reads Alec's texts and has to take a moment to squeal quietly a bit. Yes, she's a veritable teenager. "Ellie! Ellie, he replied!" Grinning, she reads the texts out to the speakerphone so Ellie can hear them.

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _That sounds perfect. I know you've got a hectic schedule, so I'll leave it up to you to decide when, alright? :)  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _My list of qualitative Alec features has expanded to include 'surprisingly enjoyable to spend an evening with.' :)_

"Alright, my horrifying table manners mustn't have scared him _too_ badly, I guess."

Ellie's laugh is a little horrified. "Oh, god, he feels guilty." It's pretty funny, to be honest. But she's beside herself when she hears the second one. "Oh, what did I tell you, Laurel!?" She's laughing, delighted.

"Ellie!" Laurel's laughing, too. "Alright, I told him I'd let him pick a date. I know my schedule is pretty easy compared or his- or yours! Oh, and then I continued a bit of last night's flirting because I couldn't help myself."

"Mm, don't worry about making him wait a little, if you have to. Could be entertaining."

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Alright. I'll let you know when I've got another evening to attempt to dampen your impression of me. I'm glad it wasn't a travesty for you._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Mm, suppose you'll have to try harder. :) Hit me with your best shot, Alec Hardy._

"Oh? What happened there?"

She chuckles. "We, um... we started talking about statistics. Qualities common to Alecs everywhere. I keep adding to the list."

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _I may bring my glasses for better aim at disappointment._

"Oh, God, he must've been helpless. How _is_ he at flirting, anyway? Sometimes it's hard to tell!"

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Oh, please do. But fair warning, that might make it easier for you to see me drooling a bit when I see you._

She hopes that wasn't weird. If so... well, it's already been sent. "Mm, he's a surprisingly good flirt. Or at least compared to my past experience, he is."

Ellie laughs. "I can't imagine!"

"It feels... I don't know. So weirdly natural, Ell. I haven't been very good with flirting in the past- and I don't know, maybe I'm still not- but it feels like it sort of flows. Of course, that's on my end... can't speak for Alec."

There's a long break in between texts before Hardy finally replies to Laurel, and it's a very short reply.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Oh, my._

Oops. Laurel cringes.

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Too much?_

"Ha! That's _good_ , Laurel. If it's coming naturally to you, at least he's managing to keep up."

"Quick update on the flirting: apparently, he doesn't enjoy it as much as I do. Oh, god."

"What? Christ, what?" Ellie's wide eyed, half wishing she could just read the texts over Laurel's shoulder. "What did he do?"

"All I got in reply to that last bit was- and I quote- 'oh my.' Whelp, this is it. I have to move. I can never show my face in Broadchurch again. It was nice knowing you."

Ellie groans.

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Didn't realize the gravity of the situation here, that sounds like a condition. Maybe you ought to get that checked.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _I may be wrong, but I don't think glasses eat as well as chips do._

The latest text pulls the slightest weak chuckle from Laurel's throat, and she shakes her head at herself.

"He just needs to take a load off! I'm telling you!"

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Oh, no, I'm a nurse. I'd know if something was wrong._

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Thankful for that._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Who said anything about eating glasses? That is not MY plan for them. I don't know about YOUR agenda!_

"You won't hear me arguing there... he came back with a better reply, though."

"Oh, _good_. Probably caught him off guard, is all. I don't know that he hears stuff like this all that much. Mostly it's 'shitface' behind his back and arguments to his face." Ellie sighs. "Shame, honestly, although he's got plenty of ego in other departments. This is good for him, Laurel."

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _I'll make sure it's a good prescription._

Laurel starts to laugh, climbing under the quilt on the bed. "That explains why he doesn't know quite what to do with me, I suppose. I hope it _is_ good for him… I hope you're right."

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _You'd better. To be honest here, though, it's less important to me that you can see out of them than that I can see you in them._

"Yeah, but don't let it make you think he deserves _mercy_ from it, either," Ellie teases. "Bet you anything he'll remember how to talk proper again soon, if he ever did know. He's probably stressing right now."

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _You looked lovely last night, I wouldn't want to miss that.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _Christ, I'm awful at this, sorry._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Alec, that's the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a long time. Thank you, sincerely. :) You have nothing to worry about!  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _Actually, we were saying the same sort of thing, I was just being silly about it.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _At the risk of sounding too forward here (apparently a no-go in dating?), I think you're incredibly handsome. Ten times more so when you wear your glasses.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _That's what I was trying to say, in my failure-to-flirt kind of way. :D_

She giggles at Ellie. "I'm not sure I'm capable of _not_ being merciful... except to that one doctor, maybe." She's swooning just a little at Hardy's texts, flushing in embarrassed pleasure even though he isn't even here to see. "Ellie, he said I looked lovely." She sounds as bashful as she feels.

"Mmm, see? What did I tell you...?" Clearly smug amusement from Ellie. "Listen, Laurel, he would _not_ be texting you this much or _nearly_ this in-depth if he wasn't interested. I have to badger him just for a response- to urgent things! And even then, it's one word, if anything... knob."

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _Oh, you're welcome. I mean it, too; for once, I felt a little underdressed, quite frankly.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _I think we were, too. I just don't know if I have the best words right now, so I'll leave it at a warm thank you.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _A side note: I have never texted this much at once. Is this a habit of yours? I'm afraid not everything I'm saying will make sense. Good thing it's unlimited.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _That's hardly failure, Laurel. I'm certain you got me mixed up with someone else who you didn't meet while on his deathbed. Here's my unsophisticated thank you again._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Would it scare you away if I told you that I honestly DO text this much on a regular basis? ;) I'm surprised you don't do this more, since you have a 15-year-old. I haven't got a daughter, but my 15-year-old sister was the one who really got me into texting.  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _How do you know I'm not just hopelessly attracted to dying men? Why do you think I became a nurse? ;)  
_ [text from Laurel to Hardy] _I apparently have no idea how not to combine weird jokes with flirting, apologies. And you thought YOU were bad at this! Anyway, you're very welcome._

"Have you ever thought that he might do that to annoy you? You two seem to exist in a love-hate relationship that's frankly very entertaining," Laurel suggests fondly.

Ellie groans. "Oh, god, yes, of course he does." It's affectionate, though. "And so do I, right back. It's definitely how we communicate, but it took me some time to learn, hah."

"He did just tell me that he never texts this much, though. Wanted to know if it was a habit of mine."

"Hmm, well. He's probably just worried about not being able to respond all the time, you know. Doesn't want to set a precedent or something. God, Hardy, it's the first date, calm yourself." Laurel can practically hear the eye-rolling going on.

There's a dumb grin on Laurel face and she can't help but laugh as she listens to Ellie talk. "Right, just a first date." Reminding herself, even if Ellie is theoretically talking to Hardy here. "We should be grown up about this, shouldn't we? I'm 30 and he's 44 and here we are going through a proxy because we're basically children." Grinning ruefully, not really bothered much by this realization.

Ellie snorts. "Does anyone ever really grow up about these things, though? Honestly, it's unknown, it's scary and exciting. Makes sense! What d'you think about that age gap, by the way...?"

Laurel shrugs- once again, oops, Ellie can't see. "I think I have a type, maybe. Ben- my fiance- he was eight years older than I was. Didn't bother me then, doesn't bother me now. I was sort of worried that it would bother Alec, though." She's somewhat comforted by Ellie's dismissal of her embarrassment over maturity. Thank god for Ellie Miller.

"Mm, well, I don't see there being any major problems, to be honest. I've known couples with wider gaps than that- not by much, but- it's all pretty irrelevant most of the time."

Laurel yawns and then glances at the clock out of habit- " _Christ_ , it's late! Oh, God, Ellie, I didn't mean to keep you up. I just got too giddy to pay attention. Urgh, and I'm working the 5 AM shift again tomorrow."

Ellie laughs. "Oh, go to bed! Don't worry about me! I'm eating this right up. You're my new sitcom."

"Oi, a sitcom? We're _at least_ soap opera material, Ellie Miller, don't patronize me," she teases.

"Alright, alright, soap opera material, then, aha!"

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Good night. Thanks for- well, okay, everything. I'm sure I'll talk to you later."

"Anyway, you're more than welcome! Sleep well!"

"You, too, Ell. Sweet dreams."

[text from Hardy to Laurel] _A little, honestly. I may not be able to keep up sometimes, letting you know now, Daisy... hasn't really texted me much.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _Oh, god. Ha.  
_ [text from Hardy to Laurel] _Thanks, Laurel. Think I'm going to try to sleep. Was a great evening. Night._

[text from Laurel to Hardy] _Good night, Alec. Sweet dreams and thanks for a lovely evening. I'll talk to you soon, I hope._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That won't be the last DW reference!
> 
> The next chapter will deal with Daisy's reaction to Hardy dating and we'll get a little more into what Tess is up to.

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the story is already written, so updates will be posted once or twice a week or so as time allows! In addition, the genre will likely change later on, characters will be added as they appear, and the rating will increase. This fic is a collaboration between indigoiseau and boomerbird10. The story is Broadchurch AU beginning mid-series 2.
> 
> Disclaimer: we are in no way affiliated with the makers of Broadchurch and on an unrelated note, we are neither medical professionals nor law enforcement officers, and as such, we will cheerfully ignore actual medicine and/or English jurisprudence and we will invent at will!


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